


What Was Forgotten.

by hp80



Series: What Becomes of the Brokenhearted? [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Erik is a Father, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Pietro Maximoff, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Past Child Abuse, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Self-Harm, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:30:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 142,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hp80/pseuds/hp80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's hidden past has caught up to him. Could he really be a father after failing horrifically the first time?</p>
<p>Following the events at the White House, Erik finds he can no longer ignore something—or rather someone—that has been on his mind since he first peered into Erik's prison cell beneath the Pentagon: the silver-haired speedster. Will Erik be able to face the past he left behind, or will he only bring more pain and destruction to the lives of those around him?</p>
<p>Note: This story takes place immediately following the events of X-Men DOFP, and the story begins entirely in the X-Men Cinematic Universe. The reason for the tags to the The Avengers and Captain America movies, as well as the related characters, will become clear as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so I'm sorry if it's not up to par or if there are typos. I just really like X-Men DOFP fics, so I thought I'd try to write one centered on Erik and Pietro (Peter). So far it basically follows the movie and is told from Erik's POV. If by chance anyone does like this, don't expect regular updates or for it to be continued. I may continue it at some point in the future, but don't hold your breath. Also, unfortunately, I do not own X-Men or any of the characters, incase that wasn't obvious.

Erik paced back and forth across the street from the modest little suburban house. He couldn’t be a father. He just couldn’t. After all he’s been through and all he has done—had to do—there was no way he could be responsible for the life of a child. Not after what happened the first time he became a father. Not when he failed his first child so horrifically. No. He had to be mistaken. The boy from the Pentagon was not his son. He was not.…..

**************FLASHBACK*****************

_Erik was meditating. Of course he wouldn’t call it that. Meditation sounds weak, but essentially that was what he was doing. That is until the regularly scheduled barely edible lunch on a plastic “duh” tray hit him in the side, but that was when his daily schedule changed abruptly._

_There was a note on the tray: “MIND THE GLASS.” What in the world did that mean?_

_He looked up still expecting to see the usual boring guard staring down at him, instead he saw a young man grinning at him. No, not a young man, a teenager, a child really. He couldn’t be older than 15, 16 tops. That wasn’t the strangest part though. The boy was extremely pale and had silver hair and eyebrows. Erik immediately reasoned he was likely a mutant. The teenager also seemed vaguely familiar for some reason, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. He knew he had never met the boy before. He’d certainly remember that hair and the smirk._

_Erik stood up to get a closer look at the boy and figure out what the hell he was planning on doing, something stupid most likely._

_He watched curiously as the boy placed his hands on the glass roof above him, and his hands became a vibrating blur._

_Then suddenly glass was reigning down on him, and at that moment, even though he still had little reason to believe this child would be able to break him out of his plastic prison, he allowed himself to feel something he thought he had lost in the past 10 years of his imprisonment. Hope._

_Erik pulled himself up through the now empty ceiling, Glancing briefly toward the boy then the doors of his cell._

_“In three seconds those doors are going to open and twenty guards will be here to_  
_shoot us.”_

_“I know, that's what I'm waiting for.” Said the boy as he somehow zipped up beside Erik._

_Erik felt a hand being placed on the back of his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked the boy._

_“I'm holding your neck so you don't get whiplash.” The boy responded so quickly he barely comprehended what he said._

_“What?”_

_“Whiplaaaash.”_

_Just when Erik was finally figuring out just what the boy might be planning on doing, the doors opened and a guard shouted “Don’t move!”_

_The next thing Erik new he was inside an elevator and….oh god….he was going to be sick. Ugh whatever just happened, Erik never wanted to experience it again._

_As he struggled to keep his nausea at bay, the boy spoke again, “You're good, it'll pass. It happens with everyone.”_

_At the sound of his voice, Erik glanced back at his would be rescuer and saw he had changed into a god awful silver jacket, a pink Floyd shirt, and some silver sneakers. Seriously? Who was this kid?_

_“Must have done something pretty serious. What'd you do, man? What'd you do? What'd you do? Why did they have you in there?”_

_Jeesh this kid liked to talk. “For killing the president.” Did the boy really have no idea who he was rescuing and what I had been accused of doing? Did he just go around breaking out random criminals in his free time, or was he simply here on a whim?_

_Erik heard the boy give a brief “Oh” of shock._

_Suddenly feeling like he should defend himself a bit. Erik responded, “ The only thing I'm guilty of is fighting for people like us.”_

_“You take karate? You know karate, man?”_

_Karate? The boy appeared to have the power of superspeed and he really thought Erik fought for their kind using karate? Maybe the kid was just being sarcastic. Erik had never really spent much time around children once he had grown up, so he wasn’t exactly an expert at interacting with them._

_“I don’t know karate, but I know crazy.” He told the boy. With that response, he thought he heard a brief chuckle from the kid. Followed by “They told me you control metal.”_

_“They?” Well that was slightly reassuring. At least the boy wasn’t working on his own. Hopefully whoever had concocted his escape new what they were doing, beyond picking up Erik and dragging him along at vomit inducing super speeds._

_As Erik was pondering who could be the brains of this operation, the boy spoke again, “You know my mom once knew a guy who could do that.”_

_Holy shit. No, he thought as he made the connection as to why the boy seemed so familiar. When he first saw the boy looking down at him, it was like looking at a slightly altered image of his younger self. Especially those eyes. Erik had never met anyone with eyes as dark brown and haunting as his own before. The boy’s smirk didn’t belong to him though. His smug smile brought to mind a woman he had tried not to think about for quite awhile. Magda. But this boy couldn’t be Magda and his son. For Christ’s sake, he hadn’t seen Magda in what 15 no 16 years. Oh crap._

_Erik was starting to feel sick again, and he knew this time it had nothing to do with the after effects of superspeed, But before he could turn around to examine the kid, he was being punched in the face by someone he never thought he’d see again._

_After a highly tension filled reunion with Charles, their little company was suddenly being rushed by armed guards._

_Nobody move! Hold it right there!_

_“Charles.” His former friend sure was taking his time at ending this predicament._

_“Don't move! Hands up or we will shoot!” A guard shouted_

_“ Freeze them, Charles!” What the hell was he waiting for?_

_“I can’t.” Charles responded._

_He can’t?_

_“Hands up!” The guard shouted once more._

_Well if Charles wasn’t going to get them out of here. Then he would do what had to be done or die trying. There was no way he was going back in that cell after getting this very brief taste of freedom. Despite this valiant thought Erik heard gunfire and just had time to think, Please let the boy live through this._

_Then everything went haywire. Bullets flew by him and guards flew everywhere. And when everything settled, there was the boy, across the room standing nonchalantly and looking, if possible, even more ridiculously childish with a guards hat plastered on his head._

_Wow. Erik couldn’t help feeling a little bit proud, but then he realized he felt proud because there was a high possibility that this boy was his son, which got him feeling sick to his stomach once again. So he quickly followed Charles and walked by the boy without saying anything. He was afraid if he tried to articulate any kind of thanks, he would blurt out things that he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has an awkward car ride while heading to the plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. I'm not very good at switching between characters, so I hope it's clear who is speaking. Also, you might've noticed that I said Peter inherited Erik's eye color in the last chapter. I realize the actors have very different eye colors, but I liked the idea of Peter inheriting Erik's so that's what I went with.

_The car ride from the Pentagon was awkward to say the least. After seeing another not so friendly face (at least toward him) in the form of Hank, they all piled in a car and pulled out of the visitor parking lot with him seated behind the grizzly looking man who was driving. The boy was next to him and Hank was on the kid’s other side, which left Charles sitting shotgun._

_They sat in silence for about 10 seconds before the boy started talking at 50mph. “So I think that went pretty well, and boy was that fun! Heck I even got a souvenir. Isn’t this hat rad! But seriously dudes, uh I mean you seem like okayish guys but uh did we just break out a terrorist? (He glances at Erik) No offense dude. I mean I dig what you did with the cookware back there. Dodging obstacles makes running on walls that much more thrilling ya know? But then again I think you might have been aiming to seriously injure slash kills those guards back there, soooo maybe that wasn’t so groovy. (he nervously chuckles) still that’s likely a totally awesome power man. Not as awe ---.”_

_“Peter.” Charles says abruptly cutting off the boy. “I assure you while breaking out Erik was not in anyway ideal, all you need to know is that it was necessary for the greater good.”_

_“Far out man.” Peter starts up again. “The greater good. That’s like really epic stuff I guess… but maybe you could just give me the address of wherever you are headed, and I can meet ya there because metal man over here has been staring at me for this entire car ride and I’m kinda onlyslightlyworriedthathe’scontemplatingmydeath…”_

_At this final statement Erik flushes slightly and quickly turns his head to look at the back of the seat in front of him. “I’m not contemplating your death. I was just thinking that you have a remarkable gift.” Lies. Well not really, just not the whole truth. Yes Erik had been thinking that the boy despite his rather hyped up personality, was a remarkable mutant; he had also been studying the boy’s face. Further solidifying his ever growing suspicion that the boy, Peter (After Magda’s Father Pietro? Maybe that’s the boy’s real name), Charles had said, was indeed his son. The probability of any other scenario as he took in once again the boy’s facial features from his eyes to his cheekbones that matched his own._

_“Oh okay. Well that’s good.” Peter says. “I mean I wasn’t really worried. Even with your metal magic thingy, I’m pretty sure I could use my lightning reflexes to out run you. The only one who could force me to stand still was my sister Wanda, but she…well anyway I’d can be outta here faster than you can say…well faster than you can say anything.”_

_“Peter could you just not talk for a bit? You’re giving me a headache,” said Charles._

_“Lighten up Professor. The kid’s a little wack, but at least he’s not brooding silently like you and Magneto. Maybe you should dial it back a bit though kid. You are a lot more overwhelming as a teenager,” Logan states._

_“Yea okay, whatever. You guys are all weird, and what do you mean ‘as a teenager,’ pretty sure I’ve been a teenager the entire time I’ve known you sideburns.” Peter chimes in, “Anyway fine, if you all can’t handle the magnificent madness that comes from my mouth then I’m going to take a nap.”_

_And with that eloquent statement, Peter tilted his head back, pulled the guards hat down over his face and presumably went to sleep. Leaving the adults to again sit in awkward silence._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang reaches the plane, and Erik and Peter part ways...for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update. Sorry it's pretty short, but I've already started working on the next chapter. It's shaping up to be much longer, unless I decide to do another short chapter before the next one. We'll see. There will be more plot development, and we'll head back to the present but not for few chapters.

**Chapter 3**

_After awhile, Peter’s breathing had deepened indicating he was most surely asleep, and that’s when Hank tried to start up a conversion again, because it was necessary and there was no way he was going to fly them all the way to Paris with this much tension in the air._

_“Alright as Charles already stated, this situation is not ideal, but...” Hank was cutoff by Charles._

_“Wait until the plane Hank, I’m not discussing the fate of the world in the same car as a boy who can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.”_

_“He’s definitely asleep, but fine we will wait. We should at least do introductions.” Hank says and turns to Erik. “Erik, this is Logan. Logan, Erik.”_

_“Yea we’ve met.” Logan gruffs out._

_Erik raises an eyebrow. Had they met before? Wait, that’s right. They tried to recruit him back in ’62, and he literally told them to ‘Fuck off.’ Well great. It seems as though they had already started what would be an amazing friendship._ ( _He thought sarcastically)_

 

_Hank started talking again, “Okay so you don’t want to discuss the pertinent details, but it sounds like Peter was pretty useful given the fact that Logan said he saved your butts. Maybe we should consider asking him to join us on our ‘mission.’ ”_

_“NO!” Charles, Logan, and Erik all blurted out, surprisingly not waking up Peter. They each gave each other a strange look, before Charles spoke up, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t want to draw anymore attention to him then we already have, besides I think his mother would kill us if anything happened to him.”_

_“Yea better to keep the kid out of it.” Logan adds_

_Charles continues, “I’m surprised Erik doesn’t want to use him though, even if he doesn’t know what we have to do.”_

_“I don’t recruit children Charles.” I’m also not about to drag my son into whatever battle we’re headed to, if he is my son. He might not be. I’ve been in isolation too long. Everything is just coincidental or I’m imagining that he looks like Magda and myself._

 

_Erik was just about to change the subject and comment that they could at least tell him where the heck they were headed when they pulled into what appeared to be a private air strip with a small jet sitting on the runway._

_Once the car came to stop everyone, except Peter who was still sleeping, clambered out. Hank went around to the trunk of the car and pulled out a bag, which he promptly threw at Erik._

_“Here. There’s a change of clothes in there.”_

_“Thanks,” replied Erik coolly._

_He quickly put on the new clothes off to the side and then headed back to join the group. The burly man, or, Logan, according to Hank, must have already went into the plane because he wasn’t anywhere in sight. As he walks over, he hears Charles talking to Peter._

_“Peter, thank you very, very much.”_

_Reaching them Erik extends his hand and shakes Peter’s briefly, “You take care.” Wow that was pathetic, but what was he supposed to say: hey, I think I’m your father. Thanks for breaking me out of prison. Sorry I missed the first fifteen years of your life. Yea none of those would’ve worked, and he wasn’t about to bring up his possible relationship with this kid in front of Charles right before they took off to do God knows what._

_With one last glance at the boy, Erik quickly retreats to the inside of the plane._

 

_“Hey, I saw your flight plan in the cockpit. Why are you going to Paris?” Peter asks Charles._

_Charles gives him a small smile, while being torn between being irked that he explored the plane and impressed once again with his incredible speed. “Don’t worry about why. The less you know the better.” Charles walks up the plane’s stairs, turns back around and tosses Peter the keys to the car. “Do me a favor and return it for me.”_

_“Okay.” Peter replies_

_“And, Peter.” Charles adds, “Take it slow."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflict arises as the gang heads to Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last flashback chapter. Next, the story will go back to the "present" as briefly introduced in Chapter 1. I might eventually end up putting in more flashbacks, but I doubt they will follow any of the movies as closely as these past chapters, if at all. Sorry if the dialogue/thoughts/POV are disjointed. Switching back and forth between speakers without it being awkward is not my forte. Comments are welcomed! :)

**Chapter 4**

Inside the plane…

 

_“Where did they dig you up?” Erik asks Logan_

_Logan responds, “You’re gonna find this hard to believe…but you sent me. You and Charles. From the future._

_Um, what? Definitely wasn’t expecting that. Erik thinks. If that’s really true, the world is even more messed up than he thought._

_Much like the car ride, the plane ride proceeds in silence, until Erik can take it no longer. He has to know how and more importantly why Charles can no longer gaze into the minds of others “How did you lose them?” he asks Charles._

_Charles responds bluntly, “The treatment for my spine affects my DNA.”_

_“You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?!” How could he do that Erik thinks. Give up what makes him special. With everything that Erik has been through himself, he cannot imagine being with out his power over metal. Since his life took a turn for the worst when he entered Auschwitz, his power has been the one constant he could rely on. He’d rather die than be without it. How could Charles feel any differently?_

_“I sacrificed my powers so I could sleep. What do you know about it.” Charles adds_

_Erik is quick to answer, “I’ve lost my fair share.” And he had. He’d lost his mother, his daughter, his wife, he may even have lost the chance to know his own son._

_Unperturbed Charles responds, “Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn’t justify what you’ve done.”_

_“You have no idea what I’ve done.” Erik replies. If Charles knew everything, he’d hate him even more than he already does. Erik thinks sadly._

_Charles answers, “I know you took the things that meant the most to me.”_

_“Well maybe you should have fought harder for them.” Did he really just say that? Why is he doing this to Charles, to his friend. He should follow his own advice. He should’ve fought harder to protect his family, maybe then he would never have set out on the path he is on now. Maybe then he would still be with Magda, Anya would still be alive, and maybe she’d have a little brother._

_“If you want a fight Erik, I will give you a fight!” Charles says explosively rising from his seat to confront Erik._

_“Sit down!” Wolverine shouts._

_“Let him come.” Erik says as Charles seizes him by the front of his shirt._

_“You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!” Charles continues yelling, close to tears. Each word cuts Erik like a knife although he refuses to show it._

_“Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee. Mutant brothers and sisters, all dead!” Erik answers back. Growing angrier and angrier. He can feel the plane collapsing and plummeting under his rage, but he can’t seem to calm himself, and though he is trying desperately to blame Charles for the deaths of all his fellow mutants, who he truly blames is himself, yet for some reason he keeps trying to tear Charles down as he adds, “Countless others experimented on, butchered!”_

_“Erik!” He hears Hank’s desperate voice again from the cockpit, but he is still unable to stop himself. He has been locked up alone for the past 10 years with all of these emotions bottled up inside him and no chance of a release before now, so he continues his rant,_ _“Where were you, Charles?! We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding! You and Hank! Pretending to be something you're not!”_

_“ERIK!” Another more desperate shout from Hank pierces the air._

_“You abandoned us ALL!” With that final statement Erik finds he has nothing left to say, and he is able to reign in his emotions, causing the plane to level out and began ascending once more. But his initial reprieve upon completing his outburst is short lived because as Charles pushes past him toward the cockpit he feels more guilty than ever. Not only that, but thinking over his own words he realizes how much of a hypocrite he is, accusing Charles of abandoning his mutant family, when he abandoned his own wife and quite possibly his unborn son._

_“So you were always an asshole.” Erik hears Logan’s judgmental voice from behind him._

_“I take it we’re best buddies in the future” Erik retorts. He’s really starting to dislike this guy, knowledge of the future or not._

_“I spent a lot of years trying to bring you down. Bub.” Logan replies._

_“How does that work out for you?” Erik inquires._

_“You’re like me. You’re a survivor. . ..  Do you want to pick that shit up.” Logan huffs out._

_Erik just gives him another are you kidding me look, but bends down and begins to pick up everything anyway._

_“Ya know, you’ve got issues man. I hope this time around things turn out better for you. I really do. Maybe meeting Pete about ten years earlier than you did in the former timeline will turn you back into a decent man.” Logan says to Erik._

_At those words, Erik almost drops everything he had just picked up off the ground, “Wh-“ Erik clears his throat “why should my character have anything to do with that boy?” He asks Logan. Although he had come to believe that Logan was truly from the future, he didn’t expect him to know any personal details about his own life. There was no way he could know what Erik suspected himself, could he?_

_Logan raises an eyebrow, “You don’t know? I guess it’s possible that you wouldn’t, but no. I think you do know. Maybe you didn’t know before, but seeing how you behaved around the kid, there’s no doubt in my mind that you know who he is to you… I never knew Pete all that well in the future. Kid was pretty closed off by the time I met him, but he was a good man. Met him back in ’95. He didn’t really look much different than he does now, guess that has something to do with his mutation, but he sure was a lot less excitable and his attire wasn’t quite so flashy. The Pietro I knew seemed to be carrying a great weight on his shoulders though. He didn’t say much about his family, but eventually he let slip who his father was. At the time it didn’t really mean much to me. You hadn’t gained much fame yet, and we’d never crossed paths up to that point, so I didn’t give the kid twenty questions. It seems like he had some pretty heavy animosity toward you though. I guess when your father is absent for twenty some years of your life and then deems his ‘brotherhood’ more important than getting to know his only son, you’re bound to be bitter.”_

_Erik didn’t know how to respond to that. He tried at first to appear aloof. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, or what you think you know, but you don’t know anything about me at all.”_

_“Yea sure I don’t ‘Magneto’.” Logan replies sarcastically. “When I met him, Pete said—and I’m not paraphrasin’ here—‘his father was a metal-movin’ maniac of a mutant with extreme rage issues and a grin like a shark.’ I’m sure there are a lot of people in the world who fit that description. Let me give you a piece of advice, once we put end to all this shit, you better get your priorities straight, or you’ll have another person to add to that list of mutants you seem to think Charles failed.”_

Some time later…

 

_After Logan’s unexpected rant, he finally explained that his consciousness had been sent back in time to prevent a war against mutants and help Charles and him stop Raven from killing Trask, which apparently triggered the chain of events that would lead to the devastation of the planet. Although the knowledge that Erik was right and humans would turn on mutant-kind angered him to no end, he had other things on the forefront of his mind….He couldn’t do anything right now with the knowledge that he was almost certainly a father again, but he could try to reconcile with Charles and make up for his previous behavior by beginning to mend at least some of the bridges he’s burned._

_Erik approaches Charles, places a chessboard in front of him, and sits down in the adjacent seat. “Fancy a game? It’s been a while,” he says._

_“I’m not in the mood for games, thank you.” Charles replies._

_Erik takes a glass and pours himself a drink whiskey. “I haven’t had a real sip in ten years.” He takes a swig of his drink savoring the taste of the liquid as it burns down his throat and hoping it can take away some of the pain he is feeling. “I didn’t kill the president.”_

_Looking skeptical, Charles replies, “The bullet curved, Erik.”_

_“Because I was trying to save him.” Erik replied “They took me out before I could.”_

_“Why would you try to save him?” Charles asks._

_“Because he was one of us.” And he was a great man, Erik thinks. Maybe they should have sent that burly fellow back to ‘63 to save Kennedy, instead of to here and now, but apparently that was never an option, as Logan said it was nearly impossible for him to come back this far._

_Charles looks surprise at this pronouncement and says, “You must think me so foolish. You always said they would come after us.”_

_“I never imagined they’d use Raven’s DNA to do it.” Erik responds. He never imagined humans would do something so cruel as turn the power of mutants against themselves._

_“When did you last see her?” Charles asks_

_“The day I left Dallas.” Erik replies. Another day of my life marked with failure._

_Charles: “And how was she?”_

_Erik: “Strong, driven, loyal.”_

_Appearing a little embarrassed, Charles asks again, “How…how was she?”_

_Not knowing quite how to respond, Erik takes a moment before saying, “She was…we were…I could see why she meant so much to you. You should be proud of her, Charles. She’s out there fighting for our cause.” …Doing what I should’ve been doing for the past ten years._

_“You’re cause?!” Charles says and Erik can see he’s growing angry again, “The girl I raised, she was not capable of killing.”_

_Erik responds, “You didn’t raise her, you grew up with her. She couldn’t stay a little girl forever, that’s why she left.” Erik thinks to himself: No Charles didn’t raise Raven, and I didn’t raise Peter. I didn’t even know about Peter though…_

_“She left because you got inside her head” Charles accuses Erik._

_“That’s not my power. She made a choice.” Erik says._

_“But now we know where that choice leads, don’t we? She’s going to murder Trask, they’re going to capture her and then they’re going to wipe us out.”_

_Erik feels his heart drop further into a chasm of guilt at Charles’ pessimistic statement. The Charles he first met would have had faith in their ability to change history, but not anymore. Erik replies, “Not if we get to her first. Not if we change history tomorrow. I’m sorry, Charles. For what happened, I truly am.” Erik’s heart takes another step into despair as he sees tears once more arise in Charles eyes before Charles wipes them away, finishes his drink looking down at the chess set, and says, “It’s been a while since I’ve played.”_

_Erik replies, “I’ll go easy on you. Might finally be a fair fight.”_

_Charles looks up at Erik and says, “You have the first move.”_

_Not even raising a hand, Erik moves his first piece forward and the game begins._

**END FLASHBACK**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik's past and present finally collide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished another chapter! Huzzah! For plot reasons, I'm assuming Erik isn't very recognizable by people who don't know him, even after his two appearances on television, so he can more or less wander where he pleases if he doesn't draw too much attention to himself. Let's just pretend the first time the camera footage was bad, and in the second appearance his face was obscured by his helmet. Also, although I don't address it yet, in my fic, Wanda is the older twin, just because I want her to be. Okay, that's all. Enjoy! and please comment if the mood strikes you. (:

He’d been walking around the little D.C. suburban neighborhood for about an hour, trying to build up the courage to ring the doorbell. Taking a deep breath, Erik finally approaches the small house. He looks down as he reaches the door and notices a welcome mat complete worn down to nonexistence in the middle, presumably from the coming and goings of one unique young man. This makes Erik smile a little to himself and gives him enough courage to finally ring the doorbell.

 

After a few seconds a woman he recognizes opens the door, “Marya?” Erik says in confusion. That’s all he manages to get out though before she takes one look at him and slams the door in his face.

 

_What is Marya doing here? Does she live with Magda and Peter? Guess that makes sense. It can’t be easy dealing with a super powered teenager, and Magda has always been close with her sister, so of course she would agree to help her raise her child._

 

Erik remains standing outside the door. He couldn’t just leave. One way or another, he had to know the truth. As he stood trying to decide if it would be completely unacceptable to use his power over metal to break the lock on the door, it opens again.

 

“You shouldn’t have come here Erik. Not after all you’ve done.” Marya sighs, “but I guess you better come in.”

 

She steps to the side and gestures for Erik to enter. He steps inside and looks around quickly.

From behind him Marya says, “He’s not here right now. Do you even know what day it is? It’s 1:45pm on a Tuesday. He has school. The only reason I’m not at work is because there was a gas leak at the restaurant I waitress at this morning, and they had to shut down for the day. Just sit down for a minute and try not to drop any stadiums on my house. I was on the phone with a friend when you rang the doorbell, and I still have her on hold. I have to make an excuse about why I can’t talk, or she’ll think something is wrong. She worries.”

 

With that she leaves the room and heads to wherever the phone is located leaving Erik standing alone in the entryway, which also doubles as a family room.

 

He gazes around. It doesn’t look like anything in the house is new, but it feels cozy. _Not a bad place to grow up._ Looking around some more he notices that there is a pair of sneakers tossed haphazardly to the side of the door, a dollhouse in the corner, along with what appears to be a large wooden toy chest, and some comic books on the coffee table, but none of those things are what catches his eye. What tugs at his heart more than he would like to admit are the photographs hung over the couch. The first one he sees is all too familiar, as he was the one who took it.

 

It’s a black and white photo of Magda holding an adorable little girl who is about two years old. She isn’t just any girl either. She was his daughter…is his daughter. She’ll always be his daughter. His Anya.

 

Unable to take the pain any longer, Erik scans the rest of the photos. The next one is of Magda looking a little grimmer. She’s not alone in this photograph either. In fact she’s holding two babies.

 

_Wait. Two babies?!_

He could tell one baby was Peter. He seemed to have been born with that annoyingly charming grin.

 

_But who is the other baby?_

 

Erik quickly moves on to the other photos. The next one is in color and contains two smiling and very similarly looking children, despite the fact that one is a boy—obviously Peter—who has striking silver hair and the other is a girl with hair that looks identical to Magda’s, and this child also seemed to have Erik’s own eyes.

 

_Twins? Magda had twins? Oh God. I’m really in for it now._

Erik moves on to the next photograph. This one is even more recent. Peter looks to be about 10 or 11 years old as does (presumably) his daughter. This one contains another child too. A little girl of about 3 years of age, who looks a bit like the older girl but not strikingly similar. Marya is also in the photograph, standing behind the children with a small smile on her face.

 

There is only one photograph left on the wall. It contrasts from the others, being that it looks more candid. It is of Peter and his apparent twin. The girl looks very serious, staring off to the side vacantly, while Peter sits beside her looking equally depressed.

 

Suddenly, he hears Marya’s voice behind him, making him jump, “I know it’s a terrible picture, but it’s the last photo I have of them together. Her name is Wanda by the way, and you’ve already met Pietro obviously. He blurted out that whole pentagon escapade when he saw you on the news.”

 

“Pietro?” Erik says,  “what happened to her, to Wanda, and where’s Magda?”

 

“I think I better start from the beginning. After you took off, Magda took it really hard. She just lost a daughter and now she’d lost you too, but she was tough. She knew she had to carry on—“

 

Erik interrupts her, “ I didn’t know she was pregnant. I—“

 

“Don’t interrupt me please. I know you didn’t know. She didn’t even know herself until a couple weeks after you left. She moved in with Django and I, and then Django passed when the twins were three and we decided there was nothing left for us in the old country. We had saved up just enough money to get to America, but not even a year after we arrived Magda got sick, really sick, she, she…”

 

“She died.” Erik states. He knows she told him not to interrupt but it seemed like Marya was having difficulties forming the words, and it’s not a question, but Magda answers anyway.

 

“Yes she did, so I raised Pietro and Wanda as my own and I love them as my own. But with the money we had spent to get to America, and Magda’s medical bills I didn’t have any money left. I was desperate, so I got married. His name was Bryan. He was nice enough, at first, and he made decent money. But slowly I began to see that he was not what he initially appeared. He had a temper, and he hit me a couple of times, but then he started abusing Pietro too. He called him a freak because of his pale skin and silver hair and he…he was just so evil. But I was pregnant with his child, so there was nothing I could do until after the baby, my daughter Mila, was born. I had a lot of complications during the pregnancy, and I had to stay in bed almost the entire time I was pregnant, but as soon as Mila was born I waited until he left for his job at the bank. Then, I loaded up the car, took all the cash we had, and left.”

 

“I’m sorry Marya.” Erik says trying to remain calm. How dare someone hurt his family. _I will kill that man._ “Do you know where Bryan is now? I will find him.”

 

“You can’t change the past Erik, and it was awful, especially for Pietro but I got my little girl out of it, and Pietro adores her to no end. And as far as where Bryan is now, I’m getting to that.”

 

“So you’ve been in D.C. since you left him?” Erik asks

 

“Yes. We were living in California, so I drove just about as far away as I possibly could, got a job, and eventually a small loan to make a down payment on this place, but it was hard Erik. I knew Wanda and definitely Pietro because of his unique hair and complexion, might be different, but I had no idea what to expect. Would they move metal like you, sprout wings, or grow gills? I just didn’t know. I didn’t even know there were more people like you and the twins until you popped up on the news. I just thought you were special, so Wanda and Pietro would be special too. Wanda was 11 when her powers came, and at first it wasn’t so bad. Weird things would just happen around her. She’d ask for a cookie before dinner, and I’d say no but all of a sudden the cookie jar would magically appear in her arms, or she’d throw a tantrum and a mirror might break, but nothing too serious. It was actually more difficult for Pietro. When he first got his powers he had no idea what was happening. He thought we had all frozen, but he was just moving so fast it only appeared that way. He eventually got better at controlling his speed and knowing he had to talk slower to be understood, but I think the world still moves at a snail’s pace for him; he just doesn’t talk about it because he doesn’t want me to worry about him more than I already do. It was quite a challenge dealing with two super-powered children, and they had a tough time at school because the other kids seemed to be able to sense that they were different, but at least they always had each other…”

 

“But what happened to Wanda? She didn’t,…she’s not dead, is she?” asks Erik. _I don’t know if I can live through the death of another child._

 

“No. she’s not dead, but it sometimes feels that way because she left such a big hole in this house. It was a little after the twins turned fourteen, when Bryan found us. It was dark out when he came. We were all just sitting down for a late night snack, when he comes bursting through the door with murder in his eyes, and we all just freeze. That’s when he grabs Pietro by the neck and starts choking the life out of him. Pietro could’ve easily run away before he grabbed him, but he was too scared. The monster from his childhood had found him, and I’m sure he felt like he was that little kid again that couldn’t defend himself. After a the initial shock had warn off, Wanda and I both jumped up and tried to pry Bryan’s grip off Pietro, but he shoved Wanda away and hit me, causing me to hit the edge of the counter and get knocked out. The entire time this was happening, Mila was just screaming so loud. I can still hear her screaming when I close my eyes. What happened next, I only know from what Pietro told me. Still on the ground where she landed after Bryan pushed her, Wanda began to stare at Bryan. I guess at first nothing happened but then Bryan started to glow all red and he started screaming too. His yells of pain kept getting louder and louder, until finally...poof. There was a brilliant flash of red that sent Pietro tumbling backward and all that was left of Bryan was a pile of ash on the floor.”

 

“Wow,” breathes Erik, not knowing what else to say, feeling horrible that he wasn’t there to defend his family and now Wanda has had to live with a death on her hands, even it was in defense for her brother’s life, taking the life of another is a difficult burden to bear.

 

Marya continues, “I woke up shortly after that and rushed over to Pietro and Wanda asking if they were okay and what happened. Wanda was just sitting there vacantly staring out at nothing while clutching Pietro’s hand. Finally, Pietro found the strength to tell me what had happened, and of course he jumped to Wanda’s defense saying it wasn’t her fault. She had to do what she did or he’d be dead. I tried to reassure Wanda too that she had done nothing wrong; she was just defending her family. She only nodded though. After we all calmed down, I sent Pietro to bed to rest and put Mila down for the night as well. When I came back I tried to talk to Wanda some more, but the only thing she would say to me was:

 

‘I killed someone…and I know he deserved it, but I could’ve hurt Pietro or you or Mila. I don’t even know how I did what I did. I had no control over it. What if it happens again? What if I hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it?’

 

I again tried to reassure her that nothing that had transpired was her fault and that I know she’d never hurt any of us. I tried to talk to her some more, but she said she wanted to go to bed, so I let her have her space and I went to bed too. Then in the morning, she was gone. It nearly killed Pietro to find out she had left, and he took off right away to try to find her. I filed a missing persons report for her too, but after a week, just when I thought Pietro wasn’t coming back either, he flew through the front door and said:

 

‘I can’t find her, and, and if I can’t find her, she doesn’t want to be found.’

 

It has been over a year since she’s been gone now, and still there’s been no trace of her, but Pietro’s right, with whatever power she posses you can be sure if she doesn’t want anyone to find her, then no one will.”

 

As Erik is struggling to process all of this, he suddenly feels a force push him backward. A second later he finds himself flung across the room, his breath knocked out of him and on the ground with a pair of eyes staring down at him that mirror his own.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is put out in the open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little bit of German in this chapter. Sorry, if it isn't completely correct. I used google translate. Just a heads up, I may not get a new chapter posted next week. I've got a bunch of exams coming up,...but I do like writing much more than studying, so ya never know. I may end up posting one after all. Please comment! It may motivate me to write more. Thanks for reading!

The boy with the silver hair stood gazing down at Erik with anger and a hint of fear in his eyes.

My son. I’ve caused that fear and anger. He doesn’t even know who I am, and he already hates me. 

Pietro begins shouting at an exceptionally fast rate, “What are you doing here!?! What are you doing in my house!? Get out! Get out! Get out! If you hurt Aunt Marya I’ll kill you! I—I swear I will! Why are you here? I don’t want anything to do with you. You tried to kill people! You dropped a stadium on the White house for fuck sake! You—“ 

“Pietro calm down and watch your language young man!” Marya pipes up, cutting Pietro off mid-rant.

“Marya, what is he doing here? What’s going on? I didn’t mean—I didn’t know he was going to be insane when I broke him out of the Pentagon! I just thought it’d be fun to break in and hang out with people like me. I’ve never met people like me before… besides Wanda, obviously ” 

Slowly rising up off the ground, Erik waits for Marya to explain, not having any idea what to say himself.

“Pietro, this is going to be difficult to hear, but I need you to listen to me. Erik is not going to hurt you or me. Okay?”

“Then what is he doing here?” Pietro asks. Training his eyes back on Erik he continues, “What are you doing here man?! If you think I’m going to join you in your plot for world domination or whatever dude, then you are even crazier than I thought.”

“Honey, that’s not why Erik is here...” Marya says, putting her hand on Pietro’s shoulder and forcing him to turn around and face her, even though he refuses to let his eyes stray from Erik. “You remember I told you that your mother knew a man who could control metal?...That was Erik sweetheart.”

“Yea so what? I kinda figured that out. I mean how many people can control metal? What’s that got to do with anything? So mom met the maniac one time. Big deal. That doesn’t give him the right to come here now.” Pietro states.

“I didn’t just meet her one time Pietro.” Erik says, “We grew up together. We were friends…We…we knew each other very well.” 

 

“Um Ew. That’s the kind of information you keep to yourself dude.” Pietro says, while scrunching up his face in disgust.

Erik tries again running one hand across his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Just…listen to what I’m trying to say to you. I didn’t mean it like that—well I guess I did, but it wasn’t like—she was…” Erik let’s out a sigh of dismay. This conversation was certainly one of the most difficult and awkward conversations in his life. “Magda was my wife, Pietro. I’m your father.”

Pietro, who had been outwardly vibrating with energy this entire time, freezes at this final statement.

Oh God. I’ve broken him. Erik thinks just before Pietro starts talking again.

“No you’re not. No. You. Are. Not! Marya? Marya, he’s not? You’re lying. Mom would never have married you! You’re a terrorist!”

“Pietro, kiddo. It’s all true. He’s your father… I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t want to hurt you.” Marya says.

“No you’re lying. You’re both lying! Why are you lying?!” Pietro starts shouting again. “You are not my father. I don’t have a father. If I had a father, he would’ve been there when mom got sick….and—and when mom died. He would’ve been there when we were broke, so Marya didn’t have to marry an asshole to support us. He would’ve been there when Wanda and I got our powers to tell us we weren’t freaks, and we weren’t alone. AND HE NEVER WOULD HAVE LET WANDA LEAVE!” 

As soon as Pietro finishes that final statement, he grabs an unopened can of soda from somewhere faster than Erik’s eyes could register and chucks it at Erik’s chest, before speeding out of the family room. The only evidence of where he went is the swinging basement door. Although Erik could have easily stopped the metal can because Pietro threw it at a rate only slightly greater than a normal speed, he lets it hit him square in the chest, figuring he deserves at least the minimal amount of pain it causes him, though he does catch the can with his mind before it hits the ground, preventing the carbonated liquid inside from splattering everywhere.

Marya brushes away some tears that had formed in her eyes during Pietro’s speech before saying, “Well that went about as well as could be expected.”

“He hates me.” Erik says. “He’ll never forgive me for not being here.” I’ll never forgive me for not being here.

“You didn’t even know he and Wanda existed until a few days ago Erik. I’m not saying that justifies your leaving or what you’ve done since and maybe it would have been better if you had never found out about Wanda and Pietro, but the fact that you’re here now shows you care. Just give him a couple of minutes. Who knows how long that amount of time will feel to him. Maybe he will have calmed down a bit. Go talk to him. Try to let him know that you care about him and Wanda. That’s all he’s ever wanted in a father.” She sighs sadly and continues, “I have to go pick up Mila from school, and I’m already late. Pietro usually swings by and gets her, but in light of recent events, I told him to be more careful as to where and when he uses his powers. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Now go get to know your son.” Marya says as she grabs her car keys and purse and heads out the front door.

A few minutes later…

Erik starts to head down the basement stairs. What am I supposed to say to him? What could possibly make him want to give me a chance to know him?

As he descends down the stairs his eyes dart around, taking in the sight of what appears to be the typical decorum of a teenager’s sanctuary multiplied by about ten. Looks like having powers hasn’t been a complete burden to him, but who the hell needs that much junk food or televisions? Erik thinks as he stares at the rows and rows of sugary treats, soda, and other random paraphernalia.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs he looks around and spots Pietro lying sprawled out on his stomach on an old oddly patterned brown and yellow sofa with his face turned watching him.

When their eyes make contact, Pietro quickly says “Go away.” before turning his head rapidly into face the back of the sofa. 

Before he turns away, Erik sees that Pietro’s eyes are red, and it’s obvious he has been crying.

He’s known who I am for less than ten minutes and all I’ve done is cause him pain. Maybe I should’ve just left him ignorant of our relationship, and let myself pretend to be ignorant of my status as a father. Erik thinks as he grabs a small stool from in front of what is most likely a stolen arcade game and sits down in front of the sofa.

“Pietro, you have every right to be angry at me, but please just let me try to explain.” 

“Don’t call me that. Only my family gets to call me Pietro, and that’s not you, so just don’t. And I told you to go away.” Pietro says glancing back out at Erik with forceful determination despite the puffiness in his eyes. 

“Du erinnerst mich an deine Mutter. Sie wäre jetzt auch so wütend auf mich.”1 Erik says softly in German.

“Tu ich das?”2 Pietro responds.

“You speak German?” Erik asks in surprise.

Sitting up slowly, or at least at a fairly normal pace, Pietro replies, “Yea mom and Marya would always speak to us in German at home. She taught us French and Spanish too. She even taught us Japanese because I guess she picked it up in…in the camp. There were Japanese soldiers there too, and I guess…well I guess you knew that already, since you were there…?”

“I was.” Erik replies not wanting to discus that terrible period of his life, but knowing his son deserves an explanation for his absence and to know more about his mother, he continues, “both of our families were imprisoned in Auschwitz. My father had died a few years before, and my mother was killed the first day in the camp, so Magda’s family became my own. Maybe one day when you’re older I can tell you more, but right now all you need to know is that we escaped in a revolt in 1944, and Magda, Marya, and I were the only surviving members of our families.” 

Erik pauses, looking at Pietro, he can tell the boy is eager to hear more information about his mother’s past, which is likely the only reason he hasn’t run away from him again, but Erik allows himself to hope that maybe he wants to know a bit about him too. During Erik’s brief story, Pietro had shifted so that he was sitting cross legged on the sofa, though he seemed to have carefully positioned himself as far away from Erik as the couch will allow, yet his eyes remain on Erik waiting for him to continue. 

He’s so young. Erik thinks. How much do I tell him? What is acceptable for a fifteen year old to hear? Although it really wasn’t all that long ago, it feels like a lifetime since Erik was fifteen, and he just doesn’t know how much about the harsh reality of life to reveal to this boy for whom all he wants to do is protect from the cruelty and injustice he has faced in his own life. 

Finally, Erik continues, “Marya met your uncle Django in the camp too, and they’d even had a fairly official wedding ceremony with the help of another prisoner who happened to be a rabbi. Magda and I eloped less than a month after regaining our freedom as well. We were very young, much too young, but having had our childhood ripped away from us, we felt aged beyond our years. Then, nine months later your sister, Anya, was born.”

Seeming to momentarily forget that he was upset with Erik, Pietro starts firing out questions, “What happened to Anya? Marya, barely ever talks about her, and she never talks about how she died. She just says that there was an accident, and it was a terrible tragedy. But what happened? If it really was an accident she would say what happened.”

Erik is about to respond, but apparently Pietro thinks he’s taking too long to answer because he starts speaking again.

“Are you not going to tell me either? I deserve to know. I’m not a kid anymore, so you and Marya can’t use that as an excuse! She may have been your daughter, but she was my sister too. And I didn’t even get meet her, so I at least deserve to know how she died.”

“You’re right. You do deserve to know.” Erik replies evenly but keeps the following thought to himself. Though you are most definitely wrong when you say you are not a kid.  
“What you have to understand is that even before people knew about mutants there was great deal of prejudice in this world, but we went and made a life for ourselves far away from the horrors of the Nazi regime. But as I said, I was still young and didn’t have a great deal of control over my powers yet. One afternoon your mother, Anya, and I were out for a walk in the city, and a car came speeding around the corner. There weren’t too many cars back then, so people were not always the best drivers. We were crossing the street and it took us by surprise. It would have slammed right into all of us, but I lashed out instinctively with my powers flinging the vehicle into the air and away from us. There were quite a few people around when this happened, not too mention the battered driver, and many people started yelling at us, calling me a freak and a monster. We got out of there as fast as we could, and I thought that would be the end of it. I didn’t think anyone really got a good look at who we were, but I guess I was wrong…  
The next day Django and I came home in the evening after a construction job we were on ran late, and we found our home set ablaze with a large mob of people outside shouting that I was a dark sorcerer, and I had to be stopped. Magda was there too, being held back by Marya and a few of our neighbors, while screaming that Anya was still inside our home. I ran into the house and found Anya inside our bedroom closet with her arms clinging tightly to her favorite and only teddy bear. I quickly picked her up and got her out of there. I thought she was going to be okay. Her eyes were closed like she was just trying to shut out the noise and all of the hostility, but she didn’t have any burns that I could see. It wasn’t until I lay her down outside that I could tell she wasn’t breathing. Smoke inhalation had killed her. I tried CPR, but I’m no doctor and even if I were, there was no bringing her back…  
That’s when I lost it. I could feel every piece of metal in the area, and I called it to me, knives, pipes, silverware, anything, and I…well I don’t think you need to hear the details…but when I was done no one from that abominable mob was left standing, and Anya was still dead. Through her tears Magda tried to say something to me, but I cut her off before she could. All I could see was the grief and fear in her eyes, and I knew I had caused both. It was my fault Anya was dead. It was my power that had brought about that mob, and I knew it could happen again, so I left.”

Throughout this exchange, Erik had been mostly talking to his feet, but when he finished he looked up and found tears had sprung up in Pietro’s eyes again, and if possible, he looked even paler. I shouldn’t have told him. Erik thinks before Pietro says, “Wh-Why are people so cruel? Why do they hate us? It’s not fair…” He trails off putting his face in his hands for a moment, before dropping them and starting again, “but you left! Mom had just lost her daughter too, and you left her! And she was pregnant and you just left her all on her own. Couldn’t you see she needed you! I get why you thought you had to leave, but that’s just—you’re just—ugh why is my life so fucked up!?” Pietro finishes putting his face back in his hands.

Erik longed to reach out to Pietro, embrace him and tell him everything would be alright, but he knew they were no where near that point in their relationship, and the harsh truth was that everything was not alright. Nevertheless, he considered raising a hand and placing it on Pietro’s shoulder, but he didn’t think he could bear watching his son flinch away from him, so he instead he remained still and spoke, “Again I know saying sorry can’t change the past, but I truly am sorry Pietro. I didn’t know she was pregnant again when I left. If I had…I don’t know, maybe I would have made a different decision… I wish…I wish I would have been here to see you grow up, you and Wanda, but if I had been, something could have happened to you too, just like it did with Anya.” Erik didn’t know what else to say, and really, he had absolutely no idea what he should do next either. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t stay here. Eventually someone will find out where I am, and that could put Pietro in danger, and my daughter is out there somewhere too…

Interrupting his train of thought, Pietro starts speaking again, “Did you know when I broke you out of prison that I was your son? You must have. I mean, how else would you have known to come here. But you didn’t say anything! You barely said two words to me at all. You just went off ToTerrorizePeopleAndStuff!” Pietro finishes this accusation in a hurry, his word running together.

“I didn’t know for sure that you were my son then Pietro. The, uh, comment you made in the elevator made me suspect, but I didn’t know for sure. And you have to understand that Charles and the others had you break me out for a reason. I couldn’t just take off, not when I was in their debt.” .

“So is that really why you’re here? Because I broke you out, so you are trying to get out of your debt with me too?” Pietro asks.

“Of course not Pietro! I wish I could repay you in some way, but not because I want to be out of your debt, because you’re my son and…and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you now that I know you exist.”

Pietro looks rather stunned by this statement, but recovers after a moment and says, “So…like what are you gonna do now then man? Are you just gonna leave again and show up in another 15 years?”

“I haven’t…that’s not what I want Pietro, I just—I don’t know what to do honestly.” Erik says.

“Look, I’m glad we had this heart to heart or whatever.” Pietro says waving his hand about erratically, “but it’s still Peter to you old man.” Then, suddenly Pietro jumps up so that he is standing on the couch with a grin on his face. “You know what we should do!? Do you!? Do you know?! We have to go find Wanda! You can find her right! You’ve got like scary connections and stuff probably, right? Right?”

For a moment Erik feels like agreeing immediately to go on a quest with his son to find his daughter. Look how excited he is at the prospect of finding his sister. I wonder what he was like as a little boy. Erik thinks as he watches Pietro bouncing about on the sofa waiting for Erik to answer. “I don’t know that that would be a good idea Pietr—Peter. I promise I will look for Wanda, but you need to stay here. You have school and a life here, much more so I’m sure than you’d ever have with me on the road.”

“School will be out for summer in a week! Then I’ll be free for three months, and I can always run back here if I get desperate. Pleeeease, I thought you wanted to get to know me…” Pietro trails off and sinks back onto the couch.

“Of course I do, but being anywhere near me is likely to be dangerous, and I really shouldn’t take the risk of having anyone find out you’re my son…” Erik stops talking at the look of dejection on Pietro’s face. “I suppose your mutation would make it easy to escape danger though, and if you really will be out of school in a week...your aunt has to approve of it first though, and you would have to do exactly as I say, no matter what! That means if I tell you to run to Timbuktu, you do it. No questions asked, and at the end of the summer you are going back to school. Do you understand?”

“Yea, yea, fine. Come on! I just went and checked and Marya is home with Mila now! Let’s go ask her. Come on, come on, let’s go!” Pietro says before speeding up the basement stairs and out of sight, leaving Erik alone feeling a little anxious, yet surprisingly somewhat excited realizing he was going to have to learn how to be a father again.

1You remind me of your mother. She'd be just as angry with me right now.  
2I do?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip plans are finalized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished another chapter when I should've been studying. I'll regret that decision later. Not too much excitement in this chapter, sorry, but next chapter things should start to get more exciting. Don't know when I'll be able to update though. My apologies for typos.

Still reeling from the prior conversation with his son, Erik marches up the basement stairs, expecting to find Pietro and Marya, but instead he comes face to face—figuratively speaking—as she was much shorter than him—with a little girl.

 

“Mommy says you’re Wanda and Pie’s daddy. Is that true?” she asks gazing up at him.

 

“Er, yes.” Erik replies feeling rather uncomfortable under the curios eyes of the child.

 

The girl nods a little. “I thought it was true. Mommy wouldn’t lie, and you have Pie’s eyes. Are you speedy like him? He’s going to be a superhero once he’s all grown up. Are you a superhero? What’s your name? Pietro’s name is Quicksilver and Wanda is the Scarlet Witch.”

 

“Um, not exactly. My ah talents lie elsewhere…and I’m just Erik.” Erik answers.

 

This response doesn’t seem to satisfy her though, so she asks, “What can you do then? You have to be able to do something, because mommy says Aunt Magda wasn’t speedy or magically.”

 

Erik watches the little girl gaze up at him expectantly. He’d really rather not put his powers on display, but he has a feeling little Mila will continue to interrogate him until she is satisfied. _I guess Pietro has had a bit of an influence on her._

Finally, Erik decides to levitate a metal slinky that was sitting on top of the toy chest and fly it over to the young girl.

 

Mila watches seemingly unafraid, but her eyes harden slightly as she says, “Are you the man from the TV? The one with the cape and the shiny helmet? He moved stuff like that too.”

 

_The start of another awkward conversation. Splendid. This girl is too smart for her own good._

Erik considers lying, but realizes Pietro will probably tell her the truth eventually anyway, so it is better to get it out in the open. “Yes, that was me.” Erik replies curtly.

 

The little girl looks inquisitively at him before saying “You…you were kinda scary.” She looks down for a moment, for the first time appearing shy, but when she looks up again she says, “You scared Pie too. He didn’t say so, but I could tell he was scared. He had the same look when he got his powers, and when…and the night before Wanda ran away.”

 

“That—my attention was never to frighten Pietro.” Erik says feeling ashamed. _Will nothing good come of my appeal for mutant liberation?_

 

“Hmm. I think you’re telling the truth. You did act like a meanie on TV, but I think you might actually be nice. I think you were just pretending to be scary but you’re actually good…My—Pietro says my daddy pretended to be nice, but he was…he was very bad man.” Mila shivers a little before declaring, “well I’m going to go play princesses and ninjas now. Bye Mr. Erik.”

 

Erik watches Mila skip off done the hall, wondering what Pietro and Wanda…and Anya…would have been like at that age. He starts to walk toward the kitchen, but pauses when he hears Pietro and Marya talking.

 

“Please can I go Marya? You said yourself he wouldn’t hurt me, and you know I can run away from any danger. Don’t you want to find Wanda? We finally might be able to find her and convince her to come home. You won’t have to worry about me anymore either if I’m with Erik. I mean, he can just drop a stadium on anyone who even looks at me funny.”

 

“Oh Pietro, of course I want Wanda to come back, but do you honestly think I won’t worry about you if your not here. I’ll always worry about you Pietro. It’s my job. I worry about Wanda everyday. Are you sure this is what you want to do though? I know Erik will protect you, but please don’t feel like you are obligated to go with him to find Wanda. That’s not your job. Your job is to be a kid. Wanda will come home when she’s ready, and Erik…well your father isn’t the same man I once knew. I have no doubt in my mind that he will look out for you, but he doesn’t have to be a part of your life if you don’t want him to be. If you’re not ready to have a relationship with your father that’s okay kiddo.” Marya says.

 

Erik hovers near the kitchen doorway waiting apprehensively for Pietro’s response. _He’s reconsidered. He doesn’t want me in his life, and why should he?_ After another second of dead air, he hears Pietro reply.

 

“Well…I…I don’t know. A few days ago I’d never even met another person like Wanda and me, and then out of the blue three guys show up who can do stuff too, and I end up breaking a guy that can move metal out of prison, and he turns out to be my dad! It’s just…yea it’s a lot to take in I guess, and I’m still pretty weirded out by this whole situation, but I finally feel like maybe I can make a difference in the world or something, even if that just means bringing Wanda back. I think…I have to do this Marya. I have to find Wanda. I know this sounds corny and I mean this completely platonically, but it’s like I’m missing half of myself when she’s not here, and…and sheMakesTheWorldNotSeemSo Sloooooow. I don’t how I feel about…about Erik, but I’m never going to figure out how I feel unless I spend time with the guy.”

 

Marya remains silent for a moment, before replying, “Alright sweetheart, if that’s how feel, you can go with Erik, but you have to be careful and promise you will listen to him. He’ll keep you safe, and I expect a call from you at least once a week! And Wanda or no Wanda, YOU are coming back here at the end of the summer and going to school. Do I make myself clear young man?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes. Crystal Clear. Got it. Promise.” Pietro replies.

 

It was at this moment that Erik decides he has been eavesdropping long enough, so he clears his throat and walks into the kitchen.

 

As soon as he hears Erik enter the kitchen, Pietro whips around to face him. “Took you long enough. Whatcha do? Stop and kick a puppy or something?”

 

“No, I ran into your sister actually, or er cousin I suppose. She seems to have picked up on your interrogation skills.” Erik replies.

 

“Yea the squirt gives me a run for my money sometimes, but she’s alright.” Pietro responds.

“Guess what!?! While you were lollygagging, Marya said I could go! So that means you can’t get arrested between now and next week. No uprooting any stadiums. I don’t think baseball ever did anything to you anyway, so you should really leave athletic arenas in peace.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Erik replies with a hint of humor in his voice.

 

“So you got any tunes picked out for our road trip man?” Pietro asks.

 

“We literally just decided to go find your sister two minutes ago, so no, selecting music has not been my top priority since then.” Erik states.

 

“Meh grumpy much. No worries. I’ve got it covered.” Pietro disappears for a second, and when he returns he is holding a stack of 8-tracks. “So what do you like dude. I’ve got Pink Floyd, Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Beatles, Queen, The Who, Jim Croce, and like a dozen more…what do you like? Who’s your favorite? Do you have a favorite album, song, lyric?”

 

Erik’s head was spinning. _I don’t think I’m ever going to get use to his thought processing speed, but at least I have the chance to try._ “I don’t know who half of those people are.”

 

“Whaaaaat? Dude that is not okay.” Pietro says looking personally offended by Erik’s lack of cultural knowledge.

 

“Well, you may have forgotten, but I have been in prison for the past ten years, and keeping me up to date on the current music was not exactly on the top of their to do list.” Erik replies in his defense.

 

“Hmmm. Valid point, but I still refuse to acknowledge that as an acceptable excuse. Don’t worry though, you can borrow these, and I’ll go swipe some replacements and some new ones for our quest.” Pietro says.

 

“Pietro! What have I said about stealing?!” Marya says having been listening to their conversation in silence with a little bit of blissfulness forming in her heart at the easy banter being exchanged between the father and son.

 

“Don’t get caught?” Pietro states with conviction.

 

Marya rolls her eyes, “Well I wouldn’t have to say that if you would listen to my request to stop stealing in the first place, Pietro.”

 

Pietro shrugs and grins, “Eh, Kleptomania is a condition Aunt Marya. It’s in the dictionary and everything. As they say with driving: no cop, no stop, let your foot drop. So I say with stealing: no cop, no stop, gotta raid the shop.”

 

Although he does not necessarily approve of his son’s excessive stealing, Erik knows he doesn’t have much room to talk in terms of following the law, and Erik finds himself actually having to hold back a chuckle at Pietro’s quick wit. _The kid changes his mood as fast as he moves his feet._ Erik thinks finding it hard to believe that less than half an hour ago, he was confronting his dejected son in the basement.

 

“I better go. I have been here for awhile, and your neighbors might find me suspicious.” Erik says.

 

“Please. You give yourself too much credit man. You’re not that famous. No one is going to recognize you without your gladiator get-up.” Pietro proclaims.

 

“Nevertheless, I’d feel better if I didn’t linger. When exactly are you done with school?” Erik asks addressing Pietro.

 

“Next Tuesday! We even get an early out, so I’m done at one!” Pietro replies enthusiastically.

 

“Alright. I’ll be back early Wednesday morning, before dawn.”

 

“Ughh. It’ll be the first day of summer! I’m supposed to sleep in. It’s like a law.” Pietro argues.

 

“I think it’d be better if no one sees who you are leaving with. We shouldn’t give anyone reason to ask questions. This way, Marya can just say you went off to camp or a relative’s for the summer without having to explain why a strange man, who you may or may not resemble, is picking you up. Besides, you can sleep in the car if necessary.”

 

“Okay, okay, but I should be allowed to have coffee if I have to get up that early. Marya never let’s me have any.” Pietro says with a pout.

 

“I can’t imagine why.” Erik replies. “I think I’ll have to agree with Marya on this one. I don’t care how early you have to wake up. No coffee. Period.”

 

“You and Marya are no fun. I don’t see what the big deal is. I could totally handle it. Totally. Sure there was that one time when I drank Marya’s coffee on accident one morning, and ran to—well I’m not really sure where I ran to. It’s all sort of a blur, but I calmed down eventually and it was like the best feeling ever. I only put one hole in the wall too, which I fixed later, so you can’t even really count that. Besides, I was only thirteen at the time so it was practically foreeeeever ago. I’m way more mature now. ICouldTotallyHandleIt.” Pietro finishes without having taken so much as a breath throughout his entire imploration.

 

Erik continues to look at Pietro unfazed, “Like I said, no coffee.”

 

“Whatever man. You’ll cave eventually.”

 

“Right, sure he will. Just like I did, huh Pietro?” Marya says sarcastically.

 

Pietro just shrugs.

 

Erik glances at his watch. “I really need to go. I’ll see you next week Pietro. Be good.”

 

“Really? Be good? That’s what you’re going with? You’re one to talk, but whatever see ya old man.” Pietro smirks at Erik then disappears, presumably back to the basement, or maybe off to procure some more 8-tracks.

 

With Pietro gone, Erik address Marya. “Marya. Goodbye then. It was…it was good to see you.” He turns to leave the house, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Erik wait.” Marya says. “You better be here next week. If you disappoint that boy, so help me I will track you down myself. I don’t care if the government can’t find you. I most certainly will.”

 

“Duly noted.” Erik replies. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back. I want to know my son. He seems like a good kid. A bit spastic, but he’s definitely his mother’s son. Thank goodness for that.” Erik finishes with a small sad smile.

 

Marya returns the smile, “Don’t be so blind Erik. He’s the best of you too, as is Wanda.” With that, much to Erik surprise, she kisses him on the cheek before opening the front door to show him out.

 

Erik steps through the doorway. He hears Marya shut the door behind him, and for the first time in a long time, Erik finds himself looking forward to what life has in store for him.

 

_I have a son….and a daughter. A family._ _I’m not alone anymore, and neither are they._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Erik's life is looking up, it goes crashing right back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Sorry it's been awhile, but I think this chapter might be a little longer than normal, so I hope that makes up for it a little bit. Also, I switched to past tense in terms of writing because I found that flowed better. Sorry if my abrupt switch bothers anyone, but I'll try to be consistent from now on. Please comment with your thoughts, constructive criticism, or whatever!

It had been a long week. In the past ten years, many of Erik’s weeks and days had stretched on endlessly as he spent his time in isolation with nary a break in the day besides the infrequent delivery of his meals a couple of times a day. Yet, now that Erik was free, the week dragged on for a very different reason. It passed so slowly because he was looking forward to its end. When it was over, he would be able to see his son again and start making up for lost time.

 

Unfortunately, Erik had to remain under the radar, so he hadn’t been able to commandeer too much money, but he did manage to spare enough cash to call the Maximoff household once in the past week, after finding the number in the D.C. telephone book. Nonetheless, instead of making time move faster, the phone call only succeeded in dragging the week out even more, and upsetting the delicate relationship he was forming with his newly discovered son.

 

**FLASHBACK**

 

_Just after dinner at the Maximoff household on Sunday night, the telephone started to ring._

_Marya answered it, “Hello.”_

_“Marya.” said Erik on the other end of the line_

_“Erik?” Marya replied. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”_

_“Nothing. Nothing is wrong…I…I just thought…”_

_“You want to talk to Piero?” Marya asked. Erik could tell a hint of a smile had crept into her voice._

_“Er…yes…if…is that alright?” Erik asked_

_“As long as he’s willing to talk to you, I don’t have a problem with it. Just give me a moment to go get him. He’s just outside trying to teach Mila the proper way to throw a baseball.”_

_Erik heard Marya set the phone down and head off, but not a minute later he heard a new voice on the line, “Hellooooo.”_

_“Pietro, erm, how are you?” Erik asked awkwardly_

_“I told you it’s Peter, Errrrik, and I’m fine. Why’d you call? Are you canceling our quest? Because you can’t cancel a quest. Did Frodo cancel his quest to destroy the One Ring?_

_“I’m guessing the answer is no?” responded Erik_

_“Of course the answer is no! Well I mean I guess he didn’t truly complete his quest since he got all mind raped by the ring’s power and then only got rid of the ring when crazy Gollum bit off his finger…but still, technically the quest was completed. So why are you bailing? Not that I care. I don’t care.” said Pietro, sounding very much like he did care._

_Piet—” Erik tried to interject._

_“I’ll go look for Wanda myself. Just don’t tell Marya you’re not going with me because then she might flip out and lock me in my room or something. Just kidding, she wouldn’t do that, but she probably wouldn’t give me permission to go out to who knows where on my own, but it looks like I’ll have to now. I’ll—”_

_“PIETRO!” Erik finally yelled into the payphone he was using at a metro station, garnering some odd looks from people passing by. Erik cleared his throat and lowered his voice back down to a normal volume, “Piet—Peter, that’s not why I’m calling. I’m not cancelling our search for Wanda. I will still be coming to get you Wednesday morning.”_

_“Oh.” said Pietro. “ThenWhyAreYouCalling?” Pietro asked rapidly._

_“Well I…you’re my son. I just wanted to talk to you. See how you’re doing.”_

_“Oh.” Pietro said again, seeming genuinely surprised, which instantly caused a wave of regret to hit Erik straight in the heart. Regret, that he ever left Magda. Regret, over the other decisions he’s made in his life. Regret, that he’s never met his youngest daughter. Regret, that he barely knows his son._

_(It didn’t even cross his mind that I would just want to talk. To interact with him. To start a real father/son relationship.)_

_“Um…well what do you want to talk about then?” Pietro asked. Suddenly going from his exuberant self to sounding as uncomfortable as Erik felt._

_“Just…anything. How’s the last couple days of school going?” Erik asked._

_“Err, um…well… not to bad…could be worse” Pietro replied launching back into his usual speedy pace. “Finals aren’t too bad. I mean I can look up the answer before anyone can see me anyway…not that I would. That’d be wrong, but if I had a photographic memory, that wouldn’t be cheating, so technically I’d just be living up to my full potential. Hmm…yea I think that’s a valid argument. Let’s go with that. Oooo I also had my last track meet of the year. Those are pretty fun. Of course, I can’t win every race because I’d draw too much attention to myself, and I think my coach already suspects I’m a mutant now that the world knows we exist. Thanks for that by the way. But I don’t think he really cares because he’s suuuuuper competive and hates losing. He seems to know I hold back, but I still win the most races, so he can’t really complain. And Marya says I can go all out—or as all out as is humanly, not mutantly, possible—my senior year, so I can go to the state competition. That’s still ages away though, but it’ll be totally rad when it finally gets here. Did you listen to those 8-tracks I gave you? They’re pretty sweet, right? What have you been doing all week? What do prison escapees slash mutant terrorists do in their free time? Did you go to a baseball game? ‘cause that’d be pretty freaking hilarious, since you destroyed a baseball stadium. Bahahaha” Pietro finished chuckling slightly._

_Erik didn’t respond right away, as his brain was still trying to comprehend everything Pietro had just spurted out at him at about hundred miles per hour, but eventually the words picked up by his ears made it through all of his neurons, and he replied, “I did listen to a few of the artists. They are ‘pretty sweet’, and no I have not been to a baseball game. My days aren’t quite as exciting as yours. I’ve mostly just been going to the library, trying to catch up on what I missed over the past ten years, and keeping an eye on the newspaper to see if anything of concern pops up.”_

_“I see. I see. Guess it is kinda hard to top your past week in terms of excitement level huh? I guess that’s true for me too. I mean, despite popular belief, it’s not everyday I break into—”_

_“Pietro! Don’t! You shouldn’t talk about that, especially not over the phone. You never know if someone is listening.”_

_“Paranoid much? But alright, alright. I see your point.” Pietro said_

_Erik looked down at his watch and realized he was almost out of minutes, and he didn’t have anymore change on him. He really wished that weren’t the case. He felt as though Pietro wasn’t telling him everything, that there was something wrong, “I’m sorry Pietro, but I’m down to my last minute so we’ll be cut off shortly…but is there something else you’d like to tell me? It seems like you’re a little less…chipper than normal.”_

_There was silence on the other end of the line._

_“Pietro?” Erik prompted him gently._

_“It’s just…you don’t know what it’s like okay? High school is bad enough already without being a freak, and you can’t understand. You’re not…you look normal. No one knows that you’re different just by looking. And sure, some people thought I was a little wacko before you went and pulled that stunt, but they just thought I was like a punk rocker or something…but now…now they all look at me different, and ask where I get the dye for my hair, and why do I dye my eyebrows too? And why am I so pale? Kids aren’t that dumb you know? They can put two and two together, and realize I never have different colored roots when my hair grows out, and it probably wouldn’t have mattered if you’d just nicely announced that there are people with strange abilities in the world, but nooooo. You had to go scare the shit out of everybody, and now hardly anyone will even look at me, and if they do, they either look terrified or like they wish they could shoot laser beams at me out of their eyes.”_

_To Erik, Pietro’s words felt like a punch to the gut. The whole reason he went about revealing the existence of mutants the way he did was so mutants wouldn’t have to be ashamed of what they were, but his actions seemed to have had the opposite effect. “Pietro, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of my actions. I—”_

_Erik heard the dial tone in his ear. The line had gone dead. He’d run out of minutes, and with no more money, or means to get any immediately, he was left feeling dreadful and hoping he would be able to set things right with his son the next time he saw him._

**END FLASHBACK**

Erik hadn’t called the Maximoff household again. Sure he was on a tight budget, but in all honesty he was just a coward. He’d already done so much to disappoint and cause his son pain. He couldn’t bear to deal with the hurt he had heard in his son’s voice without being able to see him face to face. To look him in the eye and let him know that it didn’t matter what he looked like on the outside, not that there was anything wrong with the way Pietro looked. Erik actually found Pietro’s hair to be quite intriguing, and much more striking than his own plain reddish brown locks. But again, none of that matter because from the brief encounters Erik had had with Pietro thus far, he’d gathered that buried under all of the sass and bravado, his son had a heart of gold.

 

Despite his cowardice in holding off contacting Pietro again, Erik was extremely glad that Wednesday morning had finally come, and as he made his way to the little suburban neighborhood, he hoped his son had made it through his last couple of days of school without any major incidents. He hated that Pietro was being ostracized because of his actions.

 

Pressing gently on the breaks of the car he had had temporarily ‘borrowed,’ Erik maneuvered the vehicle close to the curb across the street from the Maximoff house, and shifted the vehicle into park. He didn’t shut off the engine right away though, instead he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and took a moment to finish listening to one of the 8-tracks Pietro had given him.

 __  
…you're the one I want to go  
Through time with

_If I had a box just for wishes_  
And dreams that had never come true  
The box would be empty  
Except for the memory  
Of how they were answered by you

_But there never seems to be enough time_  
To do the things you want to do  
Once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go

_Through time with_

He had to admit, his son had good taste in music. It was actually a lovely song, depressing as it was. It forced him to think about all the time he had missed while in prison, but rather than making him grow angry, the song had a calming affect on Erik. And he swore that he would waste no more time on this Earth.

When the song ended, Erik shut off the engine, and walked across the street in the darkness of the early morning toward the little ranch house. When he reached the front door, he raised his hand to knock, but then he noticed the door was already slightly ajar.

 

Instantly, his blood ran cold, and fear—not for himself, but for his family—filled his body. He slowly pushed the door open tuning himself into the metal in his primary vicinity as he stepped through the doorway on high alert.

 

The sight inside did nothing to calm his nerves. The family room hardly resembled the room he had visited last week. It looked as if a tornado had swept through it. The coffee table was tipped over, picture frames had fallen off the wall and were lying broken on the floor, and the large wooden bookcase that once stood upright was tipped over, covering the toy chest.

 

Losing any hope of calm he had latched onto and throwing caution to the wind he called out, “PIETRO!”

 

Erik raced down the basement stairs, hoping he would find his son there waiting with an explanation for the state of the house upstairs, but his son’s previously organized chaos of a teenager’s wonderland was in utter disrepair and looked much like the family room upstairs. The former stack of numerous TVs was tipped over and many were broken. The glass cupboard filled with twinkies, pop, and other junk food was also knocked down onto the floor and had scattered glass everywhere.

 

It was obvious to Erik that Pietro wasn’t in the basement, so he ran back upstairs to check the other rooms while calling out, “Pietro! Marya!”

 

He looked in the first room off the hallway that led away from the family room, and found it must belong to Mila and formerly Wanda too, do to it’s touch of feminine décor, and although it wasn’t in nearly as bad of a state as the rest of the house, it too was empty.

 

He checked the house’s only bathroom, as well as what must be Marya’s bedroom, but both turned up empty and in shambles as well.

 

Growing more and more worried, Erik rushed back out to the family room and headed into the kitchen, where he slipped on something wet and found himself almost face-planting onto the tile floor, but he recovered his balance and remained on his feet. As he looked down to see what he had slipped on, he felt his terror rise.

 

He was standing in a pile of blood. His eyes followed the crimson trail in horror and found it led to Marya. She was leaning against the fridge, the telephone broken on the floor beside her, her eyes staring vacantly and unseeing ahead, and a bullet hole straight through her skull. Erik knew without having to approach her that she was dead.

 

Rage filled Erik, threatening to consume him, when he heard a small whimper coming from the family room.

 

His first thought as he dashed back into the family room was of Pietro, but as the cry rang out again, he realized it was much too high to be Pietro’s voice.

 

“Mila?” Erik asked the seemingly deserted room.

 

The only response was another quiet sniffle that was emanating from the toy chest trapped beneath the toppled bookcase. Erik walked over to the chest and with a little effort he was able to lift the wooden bookcase off of it and then open the lid.

 

When he did so, he was greeted by the small form of Mila. She looked horrified. There were tears streaming down her face and she was shaking from head to toe. She was also clutching a piece of silver material, which somewhere in the back of his mind Erik registered that it was Pietro’s leather jacket.

 

“Mila.” said Erik. Reaching down, he lifted her out of the chest and set her back down on the floor, and then he lowered himself onto to his knees so that he was at her eye level. “It’s alright Mila. You remember me? I’m Pietro’s father, remember? Listen, Mila. I know you’re scared, but whoever was here is gone now. And it’s very important that you tell me what happened.”

 

The little girl remained silent. Her fingers turning white as she clasped the leather jacket even tighter.

 

“I know it’s difficult, but I need to know. Did whoever did this take Pietro? Please Mila, I

 can’t help if I don’t know what happened. I promise you I will find your cousin but you have to tell me what happened.”

 

“brother…” Mila whispered. “Pie is more to me than a cousin. He’s my big brother.”

 

“That’s right Mila, and you want to help your brother right? So please tell me. Time is of the essence.”

 

Mila sniffled again, but finally took a deep breath and began, “I…I had a bad dream during the night. I…I’ve had them since Wanda left, and sometimes Pietro has bad dreams too, so he lets me sleep with him. But I didn’t want to bother him last night because he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately…then I remembered that I had hid his jacket in the toy chest out here because he was teasing me yesterday. I came out to get it because it makes me feel safe, and Pie says it’ll help me be strong like a superhero, but it was buried at the bottom of the chest, so I couldn’t quite reach it. I crawled inside to get it, and the lid fell closed on top of me…I was about to push it back open when the scuba men burst through the front door.”

 

“Scuba men?” Erik questioned confused.

 

“mmmhmm.” Mila nods “They had these mask thingies on like what the people that swim in the ocean with the dolphins and fishies wear to help them breathe.”

 

“Gas masks?” Erik asked

 

“I don’t know.” Mila replied. “Maybe. Anyway, I got scared…I was going to cry out, but I couldn’t make myself say anything. It was hard to see, but I was able to look through the gap between the lid and the top of the chest, since our toy chest has never been able to close completely. I saw a few of them head down stairs, some went down the hall, and a couple others started walking right toward me. I thought they were going to find me, but they just started messing up the room, and I thought mommy was going to be sooo mad at them. Then one of them tipped the bookcase over on top of my hiding place and getting out of the chest wasn’t possible anymore. Then…then I…I saw…”

 

“Go on Mila. What did you see.”

 

“Well…I…I heard before I saw. They were being really quiet, but I heard the ones who went downstairs coming back up after a bit…and…and” she let out a little sob then continued, “and one of them was carrying Pietro. He had something sticking out of his neck. I don’t know what it was, but I heard one of them say, ‘…gassed and tranqued. They estimated well at the lab. He did manage to run across the room, and knock some junk over. But he was groggy even then, and when the full force hit him, he was out like a light.’ ”

 

Mila buried her face in Pietro’s jacket for a moment. Erik was glad she did because he suspected his fear and white-hot anger was all too visible on his face, and he was afraid Mila would be scared of him and unable to continue her story. Somehow though, he managed to remain stoic on the surface long enough to prompt Mila to continue, “Go on Mila. Keep going. It’ll be easier if you don’t stop.”

 

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes again and went on “Then most of the scuba men left with Pie, but one stayed in the family room as two others brought Mama out of her bedroom. She was sleeping still or…or they did something to her too, I don’t know but I heard them say,

 ‘…put her in the kitchen by the phone….gotta make it look like a robbery…’

After that they disappeared into the kitchen, and then I…I heard a bang, and they came back out without mommy this time and left.”

 

When she finished, to Erik’s great surprise she launched herself forward and into his chest where she sobbed once more. Erik patted her awkwardly on the back, as he felt a strange sense of deja vu, as he recalled comforting Anya when she was small.

 

Slowly and gently, Erik pushed her back away from him and said, “Mila, I promise you. You are going to see your brother again. I am going to find Pietro.”

 

Mila looked up at him and replied, “I know you will….but…but where’s my Mommy? She’s…she’s… dead isn’t she?”

 

Gazing down at the fragile looking little girl before him, who reminded him so much of Anya, he wanted to lie to her, but he knew he could not. “She is. I’m sorry An—Mila. But I am positive that Pietro is not, and I will not rest until I find him. We have to go now though, and I can’t leave you here. Those men might come back if they find out you saw what happened.”

Erik reached down and picked Mila up then turned to leave but she cried out, “Wait! Pie’s jacket. I need his jacket! He loves his jacket, and he’ll want it when you find him.”

 

With that assertion, Erik bent back down and retrieved Pietro’s jacket from where it had fallen when Mila had sought comfort in Erik’s arms.

 

Erik felt himself losing his calm once again now that Mila had buried her face in the crook of his neck and couldn’t see his expression, but as he went to leave the house he noticed again that the photographs which had hung above the couch were now lying on the floor, their frames broken and shattered. With only a second of hesitation, he bent down and gathered up all five photos from their ruined frames and tucked them into his jacket pocket, making a vow as he did so.

 

_I will find you Pietro. I promise. I won’t fail a child of mine again._

Still just as angry and afraid for his son, but with his resolved strengthened, Erik left the small house. He didn’t go back to look at Marya again. He knew there was nothing he could do for her, and he didn’t want to subject Mila to having that awful memory of her lying in a pool of blood etched in her mind for the rest of her life.

 

Erik crossed the quite suburban road with Mila in his arms, the mounting light of dawn shining down on them. He opened the back door of ‘his’ car and placed Mila inside, tucking Pietro’s jacket around her then he walked around to the front of the car and got in the driver seat.

 

“Put your seatbelt on Mila. We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

 

“We’re are we going Mr. Erik? Are we going to get Pietro?” Mila questioned.

 

“We are Mila, but in order to do that, first, we have to go see an old friend of mine.”

 

_Or an enemy depending on the day._

Erik certainly hadn’t imagined he’d see the man he planned on avoiding for the rest of his life so soon after their last encounter not even two weeks ago. But as uncomfortable as their reunion might be, Erik knew that it was the only way to find Pietro. And he would do anything to get his son back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Pietro. :(  
> I bet you can guess where Erik's headed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate to find his son, Erik goes to see an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time for another quick update, so here you go! (:

Erik glanced into the review mirror to check on Mila. She had fallen asleep almost instantly upon leaving the D.C. area. Now, almost four hours into their journey, she was still out, and part of Erik wished he could succumb to sleep as well, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He had to stay awake, not only because he was driving, but also because every minute that passed was a minute longer that Pietro had been missing.

 

The thought of Pietro all alone and being held who knows where undergoing God’s knows what, made Erik sick to his stomach. At one point, he had actually had to pull the car over to the side of the road, where he proceeded to throw up the entire contents of his stomach. Fortunately, at which point, he was able to continue driving once more, as he had nothing left to dispel from his stomach.

 

Now, back on the road, Erik and Mila were drawing ever closer to Westchester County. Erik debated putting on his helmet. He didn’t know how Charles would react to him showing up on his doorstep, but he guessed he wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms or an invitation for a drink and a chess game. But in the end, he decided not to don his helmet. Maybe if Charles sensed him coming, he’d be better prepared to face Erik, that is if Charles had managed to stay off Hank’s serum, and still had his powers. In any case, one way or another he would have to face Charles. It was the only possible course of action. Erik knew that without any leads, his only hope of finding Pietro was if Charles agreed and was able to use Cerebro. If that failed, he didn’t know what he’d do, but he refused to let himself consider that possiblity.

 

When they were a few minutes out from Charles’ estate, Erik woke Mila.

 

“Mila.” He said quietly but loud enough to rouse her, “Mila, you need to wake up. We’re almost there.”

 

The little girl yawned and stretched her arms, “Where? Your friend’s house who is going to find Pietro?” she asked, her voice filled with hope.

 

“Yes, but Mila I need you to do something for me…” said Erik making eye contact with her in the review mirror. “Don’t tell my…friend that I am Pietro’s father, or anyone else we might encounter at his home, okay?”

 

“Why not? Don’t you want people to know you’re his daddy? ” asked Mila.

 

“It’s…complicated Mila, but just know that the less people who know I am Pietro’s father, the safer he will be. I may end up telling my er friend at some point, but let me handle that if and when the time comes.”

 

“Hmm. Okay. I won’t tell. I’m really good at keeping secrets. I’ve never told anyone what Wanda and Pie can do.”

 

“Good. That’s…that’s good Mila.” Erik replied as he approached the gates of Charles’ estate. The gates were locked, but being made out of metal, Erik had no trouble manipulating the lock, so the gates would open and then he and Mila proceeded up the driveway.

 

The estate itself looked a lot more rundown then he remembered it, but it also gave off the appearance of being recently restored, as if someone had been working hard in a very short amount of time to restore the grounds and house to its former glory.

 

Erik parked his car right outside the front door, took a deep breath, and then stepped out of the vehicle. He went to let Mila out of the back, but she had already hopped out and come to stand beside him.

 

Erik turned to walk up to the front door, but before he took even one step, he felt a small hand close around his own. He glanced down at Mila, but didn’t say anything as he advanced up the main stairs. He would never admit it, but in that moment, he wasn’t sure who was finding more comfort in that small gesture, Mila or himself.

 

When they reached the main entrance, Erik lifted his hand and gave the door three hard knocks. Erik didn’t have to wait long for an answer, but each second standing there felt like a lifetime, and the passing silence turned Erik’s thoughts to his son.

 

Just when Erik was going to use his talent with metal to break the lock and barge in, the door opened enough to reveal Hank, who was currently in his human form, but from the look on his face Erik didn’t think he would be for long.

 

“Erik. You have ten seconds to leave this property before I tear you limb from limb.” said Hank looking like he was turning slightly blue.

 

“I—” Erik started to respond, but was cut off by a much calmer sounding voice, although it too contained no hint of warmth or welcome, coming from inside the mansion.

 

“Stand aside and tone it down Hank. Erik’s not alone.”

 

“What? There’s no one else out there.” said Hank

 

“Look down Hank.” Charles replied

 

It was at this prompting that Hank turned his gaze downward and noticed a little girl, anywhere from six to nine years old, hiding behind Erik’s legs.

 

“Erik.” Charles said. Now that Hank had opened the door to its full expanse, Charles could be seen in full view. He was using his old wheelchair, which evoked conflicting emotions inside Erik. He still felt guilty every time he saw Charles in his present condition, unable to walk, but in this case it also made him hopeful. Now there was a chance he could find Pietro. The fact that Charles was in a wheelchair and that he had known Mila was hidden behind Erik confirmed in Erik’s mind that Charles was back to using his powers.

 

“Erik.” Charles repeated.

 

“Wh—what?”

 

“I asked you a question, but your mind seems to be elsewhere, not that I would know for certain. Your recent actions forced me to break this promise, but I’ll make it once more, I’m never getting in your head again, so I’ll repeat myself and keep this conversation cordial in light of the present company, but what in God’s name do you think you’re doing here and why on earth do you have a child with you? Who seems so distraught by the way that I’m having trouble picking up her thoughts.”

 

“I…I can explain. I—”

 

“Isn’t that Peter’s sister?” said Hank, interrupting Erik once again. “Aren’t you Peter’s sister?” he asked again, this time addressing the little girl.

 

Mila nodded quickly before ducking back behind Erik.

 

 “Yes. She is Peter’s little sister, Mila. That’s why I’m here. It’s about Piet—I mean Peter, he’s been taken. By whom, I don’t know, but they murdered his aunt. Mila was probably only left alive because she was hidden at the time, but please may we come in? We are already wasting time. Charles, you need to use Cerebro to find Peter immediately.” Erik finished in a rush.

 

Charles stared at Erik intensely for a moment, while Hank just stood there still looking angry and slightly confused, while attempting to seem unthreatening most likely for Mila’s benefit. Erik didn’t blame him; their last encounter, just under two weeks ago had not been very friendly.

 

Finally Charles said, “Alright. Come in. I’m still rusty but we’ll head down to Cerebro now, if Peter is truly missing then of course I want to help find him. I expect more of an explanation though Erik. Why were you at Peter’s house in the first place? Were you so beaten down after your little stunt in D.C. that you’ve resorted to recruiting children?”

 

“No of course not. I wouldn’t…that’s not why I was there. I just…I wanted to thank him for getting me out of that prison cell. After all, you and Hank and that Logan fellow wouldn’t have been able to free me without him.” said Erik as the group headed toward the elevator to the fortified basement beneath the house’s main floor.

 

“I see…” said Charles looking extremely unconvinced.

 

“Look, believe me or not, the reason I was there is not really important, what’s important is finding Pietro.”

 

“Pietro?” Hank questioned as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the white washed walls of the basement hallway.

 

“That’s Pie’s real name. He just likes people to call him Peter. He says he’s weird enough already without a weird name too.” Mila piped up.

 

“Oh, uh got it.” said Hank as they approached the vault containing Cerebro.

 

Charles leaned forward allowing the locking mechanism to scan his retina then a computerized automated voice said, “welcome, professor.” With that the vault doors opened to reveal a large circular room, empty except for the wonder that was Cerebro.

 

“Alright Hank. Fire it up.” said Charles as he placed the odd device on his head.

 

Instantly images of many white and some red blurs appeared on the walls around them, representing all the humans and mutants in the world.

 

Erik watched Charles close his eyes in concentration. Praying to a God he wasn’t sure was listening that he would be able to find Pietro.

 

“I’m not sensing him. It could be I’m just still rusty…” said Charles.

 

Erik felt his heart quicken in panic.

_No. no. no. Charles can find him. He has to._

 

“I have an idea.” said Charles opening is eyes. “Mila, do you mind coming here for a moment. I believe if I have contact with you while looking for Peter, I may be able to find him since you share some of the same DNA.”

 

Mila looked up at Erik, who nodded. Then Mila stepped forward, allowing Charles to raise to fingers to her temple.

 

Again Charles closed his eyes. For several minutes he stayed very still. Everyone else in the room was silent too. Not wanting to break his concentration.

 

Slowly Charles opened his eyes, dropped his hand, took the helmet off his head, and wheeled around to face Hank and Erik.

 

“I can’t find him. He’s either shielded from me somehow…or…”

 

“No.” said Erik. “He’s not dead. I’m sure of it. Whoever took Pietro wanted him alive. You have to keep looking.”

 

“Endless searching won’t make him anymore visible to me, Erik. If I couldn’t find him using a relative as close as a sister—”

 

“Technically we’re cousins.” said Mila. “My mommy is his aunt. She adopted Pie when his mama died a long time ago, but he’s still the best brother in the world!”

 

“Oh…I didn’t realize…I just assumed the woman we met at your home was Peter’s mother too…All the same, that doesn’t change the fact that he is for some reason shielded from me.” said Charles. “Perhaps if I was able to use someone closer to him in DNA as a reference then I would be able to find him, but seeing how that’s not an option, we’ll have to take our search elsewhere…Perhaps…I really don’t want to, but maybe I should try contacting Moira. She might be able to help, Hank go—”

 

 “Use me.” said Erik. He’d barely been listening to Charles ramble on, instead he’d been having an internal battle. He was trying to figure out how he could help Charles look for Pietro without revealing their connection, but he realized that there was no other option. And in all honesty, he didn’t really care what Charles and Hank would think of him. He just wanted his son back. He only hoped they wouldn’t now judge Pietro based on his lineage alone.

 

“What?” Charles said confused.

 

“Erik, I don’t think your whole, ‘we are all mutant brothers and sisters’ will really apply to making Cerebro more effective. I should know. I designed it.” said Hank.

 

“Just…try please…” said Erik.

 

“Look, Erik, as you said, we shouldn’t waste anymore time. We’ve already established Cerebro is a dead end, and I’m afraid both being mutants won’t enhance my ability to find Peter. Afterall, I’m a mutant too, and that obviously isn’t enough of a connection with Peter to find him. We should—”

 

“He’s my son.” Erik suddenly blurted out.

 

“What!?!” responded Charles and Hank in unison.

 

“Could you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right, because it sounded like you said—” Charles started to say.

 

“You heard me correctly. He’s my son.” Erik repeated running a hand through his hair in frustration and awkwardness. “I’m his father. Now use me to find him GOD DAMN IT!”

 

There was a moment of awkward silence. Even Mila who had been humming quietly to herself until Erik’s escalated declaration, went completely silent.

 

“That’s—you’re—what? ” said Hank unable to form a coherent sentence.

 

Charles was still looking incredulous. “You’re serious?...You’re actually Peter’s father? And you just both failed to mention that when we had him break you out of prison? God, this is rich…You can’t be a father! You’re not fit to be a parent. You tried to kill _how_ many people in the past few weeks and you dropped a stadium on the White House for Heaven’s sake!”

 

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “I was a father long before I met you Charles, and thank you for that opinion, by the way. Trust me when I say, I am certainly aware of my ineptitude as a parent without you reminding me of it. Now, could you please put aside your feelings about me for the moment, and just find my son.” said Erik, his voice breaking slightly at that last statement, as he felt tears threatening to well up in his eyes.

 

“I…yes alright, of course, but we aren’t done talking about this Erik.” responded Charles.

 

Like Mila had done before him, Erik took a step forward and kneeled down to allow Charles to be able to reach him.

 

Charles placed Cerebro back on his head, then hesitated momentarily before placing his hand on Erik’s temple and resuming his search once more.

 

Barely a minute passed when Charles eyes sprang open, and he said, “I’ve got something…but…it’s not…no it’s not Peter. It’s a girl, but she feels a lot like Peter—”

 

“Wanda.” breathed Erik.

 

“Who?” asked Hank.

 

“My daughter. She’s Pietr—”

 

“Another kid!? Jeez Erik, have some self-restraint! How hard is it to keep in it your pa…”  Hank trailed off remembering there was a little girl in the room who had a mildly bewildered expression on her face.

 

“As I was saying, I think it might be my daughter Wanda. Pietro’s _twin_ sister, Hank.” said Erik looking defensive.

 

“Is it really Wanda? Did you find Wanda?” Mila squeaked out.

 

“Yes if Peter really has a twin sister then I have definitely found her. She and Peter are too similar in DNA for it not to be her. I can’t reach her mind though. It’s completely…chaotic…” said Charles.

 

“But do you know where she is? From what I know of her ability, I wouldn’t think you would be able to sense her at all, but maybe she has a connection to Pietro that comes from being his twin and mutants. Perhaps she felt that he was in danger and it caused her to let her…guard down so to speak.”

 

“Yes…she’s on a train from Chicago…headed to D.C. What’s the nature of her ability Erik?” Charles asked deciding to take the information that Erik had another child running around in stride rather than dwell on it too much for the time being.

 

“I’m not exactly sure...I’ve never actually met her…I just know that if she didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be found. But I have to stop her. She’s probably headed back to their house, and whoever took Pietro could still be watching it. She may be the key to finding him too. You’re really not getting any sense of him at all?” asked Erik.

 

“I’m afraid not. Whoever took him could have another psychic working for them, or maybe he’s just being held in a specially built facility. It’s hard to say…I’m...I am sorry Erik.” replied Charles.

 

Erik remained impassive, but Charles thought he saw a flicker of complete and utter despair in his eyes.

 

“Watch Mila, would you? I…I need to go for a walk.” said Erik as he stormed out of the room, the metal in his path seeming to warp a bit as he did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know if I captured how Hank an Charles would react to the news that Erik is a father, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. Please comment at your convenience!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles begin to bridge the gap between them, and Pietro finds himself in a very undesirable situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! My apologies for the lateness.

Erik didn’t know where he was going. He just walked and walked in circles around the grounds, finally coming to a stop when he was back at the fountain near Charles’ mansion.

 

God, what was he even doing? All of this power he possessed and he couldn’t even protect his family, and now, with no other plan, he had to wait another 10 or so agonizing hours for Wanda to arrive back in the D.C. area. It was not fair that he should sit here in perfect safety, while his only son was out there all alone facing unimaginable horrors…

 

Feeling as if his legs might fail him, Erik sat down on the edge of the fountain, and buried his face in his hands, and that is how Charles found him.

 

Erik was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the sound of Charles’ wheelchair approaching.

 

Charles maneuvered himself up the path to Erik; his mind was still processing the revelation that Erik was a father. At first it seemed preposterous, but after seeing how Erik reacted to Peter’s disappearance, he knew Erik was telling the truth. It even made a strange sort of sense. Not that it justified Erik’s past actions, but if Erik had children, who were also mutants, Charles could see why he might go to extremes to make the world more accepting of them.

 

After Erik had stormed out of the basement, Charles had started to feel a little guilty about how he had reacted to the news that Erik had a child, _two_ children in fact. After thinking it over, despite his flaws, Charles thought Erik could actually be a good father. Sure he disagreed with his methods, but there was no doubt in Charles’ mind that Erik would protect to the death those he held dear, or at least he would have thought so if Erik hadn’t tried to kill Raven recently. Then again, he had taken that course of action because he thought Raven was a threat to the rest of mutant kind, mutant kind that apparently included his own children.

 

As Erik came closer into view, Charles saw that he had his head in his hands, and he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

 

“Erik.” said Charles, causing Erik to look up startled. “You look like you could use a drink.”

 

Charles held out a glass to him along with a bottle of whisky, which Erik promptly took.

 

“Thanks.” Erik mumbled as he quickly poured a generous shot into the glass and downed it.

 

“Erik, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling, but we still have to talk about this whole situation. You came to me for help. I deserve an explanation at the very least. We were friends once after all, weren’t we?” asked Charles taking the bottle of whisky back from Erik and pouring himself a glass too.

 

Erik didn’t say anything right away, but after a bit he responded, “I—yes, that we were…but don’t ask me to talk about this. Not now, not while Pietro is still missing, and my daughter is out there on her own. I just…I can’t…if you must know, you’ll have to look into my head, but I warn you, you won’t like what you see.”

 

Charles swirled the glass of alcohol in his hand and then took a swig from his glass, before answering Erik, “I’ve been in your head before, Erik. I’ve seen some of the things you’ve lived through and done, it’s not going to scare me away now…if you’re ready then?” Charles asked lifting his hand to his own temple.

 

Erik looked intently at Charles before nodding slowly.

 

“I guess I’m not very good at promises, since I’ll be breaking mine to you once more.” said Charles before he delved into the deepest depths of Erik’s mind. He shifted through Erik’s most recent memories, and headed far back into the past…

 

Charles saw Erik as a small child tearing down the gates of a concentration camp as he cried for his mother. He then saw Erik watch his mother die at the hands of Shaw. He watched as time passed and Erik struggled to survive the concentration camp and Shaw’s manipulation and torture. He watched Erik find solace in the friendship of another young female child who was also a prisoner in the camp. He watched them finally escape together and get married. He saw Erik became a father for the first time and hold a little baby girl in his hands. Then he watched as Erik’s happiness was stripped away from him…

 

He saw Erik’s little girl die. He watched as Erik lashed out in rage, and then left his wife in tears. He saw Erik hunt down Nazis in an effort to quell the anger that had risen up inside him.

 

As Charles already knew what happened in Erik’s life once they met, he skipped forward in time.

 

He saw Erik in his isolated cell in the pentagon, and watched as a silvered hair boy appeared above him. He listened as that boy said his mother once knew a man who could control metal…

 

He skipped forward again, and watched as Erik went to the Maximoff household where he apprehensively confronted his past. He saw the love in Erik’s eyes as he talked with his son amidst the boy’s stolen collection of memorabilia. He looked on as Erik was cut off during his phone call with Peter before he could truly express what he so desperately wanted his son to know. He felt Erik’s terror as he returned to the Maximoff household finding Peter gone, Ms. Maximoff brutally murdered, and Mila crying…

 

With nothing left to see Charles released his hold on Erik’s mind and returned to the present.

 

Charles was overwhelmed. Erik’s actions over the years made so much more sense now. “Oh Erik—”

 

“Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t want your pity…I don’t deserve your pity,” said Erik whispering the last statement so quietly that Charles doubted Erik knew he had heard.

 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” asked Charles

 

“What did you expect me to say Charles. That I’d failed as a father, watched my daughter die and abandoned my wife? In case you’ve forgotten Charles, normally the past stays fixed. It’s not everyday someone comes back in time. The mistakes I’ve made will remain forever.” Erik said raising his glass back to his lips for another drink before realizing it was empty.

 

Charles watched Erik for a moment, considering how best to respond to the broken man in front of him whom he once considered a dear friend and hoped to someday again, when he noticed Erik was fiddling absentmindedly with a pocket inside of his jacket.

 

“What do you have there Erik?” asked Charles.

 

“What?” responded Erik seemingly unaware of what he was doing until that moment. “…Oh, just reminders of everything I’ve missed.” He said pulling out the photographs that were hidden in his jacket.

 

“May I?” asked Charles slowly holding out his hand.

 

Erik hesitated for a second, holding the photographs tightly as if they were valuable items to be treasured, which to him they most likely were, before placing them in Charles’ open palm.

 

Charles flipped through the photographs slowly. “You have a beautiful family Erik.”

 

“They’re not _my_ family, not really. I’ll never truly be a part of it. I’ve missed too much of their lives. All I’ve done since I’ve tried to be part of their lives is cause havoc on what little happiness they have. The whole reason Pietro is missing is because of me,” responded Erik.

 

“You can’t put that on yourself Erik. Peter could’ve been noticed by whoever took him long before you made an appearance, and yes, you’ve made poor decisions in the past, but as you said, the past is fixed. The only thing to do now is to live in the present in do what you can to make the future better. From what you’ve showed me, there’s no doubt in my mind that Peter knows you will come for him, wherever he is. We will find him Erik.” As Charles finished, Erik remained silent and he still looked doubtful but perhaps there was a hint of hope in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

 

Charles went to hand back the photographs to Erik when one of his fingers brushed over the edge of the photo of Magda and Anya, as it did so, he noticed that there was another photo stuck to the back of it. He began to carefully peel back the hidden photo.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Erik a little alarmed.

 

“There’s another photograph here,” replied Charles as he finished separating the two photos.

 

Once separated, both Charles and Erik leaned forward to see what the photo contained.

 

“Wow…you look…so…happy.” said Charles as he gazed down at the photo, which revealed another image of Magda and little Anya from what appeared to be the same day as the other photo, but in this one they weren’t alone. Erik was with them, holding Anya tenderly in one arm with his other placed lovingly around Magda as they smiled out at the camera. Erik was even smiling too, and not an evil grin or a forced upward turn of the lips, but a genuine blissful smile that reached his eyes and made Charles wonder what Erik’s life would have been like, if his family had not been the victims of such hatred and tragedy.

 

“Well…that was a long time ago…” said Erik. Suddenly realizing how long they have been talking, Erik abruptly grabbed back the photographs and swiftly stood up. “We need to get going straightaway.”

 

“Calm yourself Erik. Wanda’s train is still hours away from the D.C. station, we still have plenty of time to make the drive there and arrive before she does. You should get something to eat and get some rest before we leave. You look dead on your feet.”

 

“That’s of no import. Wanda’s train could be early. We need to leave now,” said Erik firmly.

 

“Erik, you’re not going to be of any use if you fall asleep or pass out from hunger. You should really—”

 

“Charles just drop it. If it makes you feel better, I will let Hank drive, while I attempt to rest on the way, but we’ve already delayed too long as it is.”

 

“All right Erik.” said Charles. “We will leave now, but I’m grabbing food for you before we go. Even if you are not giving in to something as mundane as hunger at the moment, you may very well find you want something later.”

 

“You seem to forget that we did not have quite the same childhoods, Charles. I have gone far longer without food and sleep than a couple of hours.” said Erik as the two headed back to the mansion. “And I’ll be able to eat and rest when I know my children are safe, Charles, and not until then. Not when Pietro and maybe Wanda—if we do not leave now—are being subjected to consequences that should have befallen me.”

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

PIETRO'S POV

 

Pietro didn’t know where he was when he woke up, but he knew it wasn’t in his basement where he had fallen asleep.

 

His head was killing him, and his mind seemed foggy, which was a real pain in the butt since he was used to his brain being able to function at an extremely fast rate thanks to his ability.

 

He was about to open his eyes, but then he moved his arm slightly and realized it was restrained somehow. He was starting to get pretty freaked out at this point, but he forced himself to remain still with eyes closed because he noticed that wherever he was, he wasn’t alone, as he heard people talking.

 

“So everything has been taken care of?” said one voice

 

“Yes, Director. We went undetected by the neighbors and local authorities, and the situation has every appearance of a break-in gone wrong.” replied another voice.

 

“Good…good…of course it won’t be long before the police or someone discovers the aftermath and realizes the boy is gone, but eventually, he’ll be labeled as just another unsolved kidnapping.”

 

“The little girl wasn’t there though. She must’ve been at a friend’s house, so we were only forced to deal with the woman.” said the first voice.

 

_Deal with the woman? What did that mean?_ Thought Pietro.

 

“Good. No need to have anymore causalities than necessary, especially if the girl’s human as suspected…now doctor, catch me up to speed on our new subject.”

 

Pietro tensed as he heard them walk closer to himself, but he forced himself to relax quickly again and remain in his feigned sleep.

 

“Based on superficial tests, the subject appears to be dead,” said an entirely new voice, this time female.

 

_What? I’m very much alive, idiots. Thank you very much._

The female voice continued. “Although he is breathing, our equipment doesn’t register a heartbeat. I deduce this is a result of his heart beating much too rapidly for our technology to pick up. I believe his cardiovascular system must operate much like a hummingbirds. His heart beats at an extremely fast rate in order to support his increased metabolism. We’ve taken some blood and other DNA samples, but it will take time to analyze, and other tests will obviously be necessary to reveal the extent of his mutation.”

 

“Thank you for that analysis, doctor. It’s unfortunate of course that we don’t have access to the DNA of the subject’s parents, since the mother is long dead and the father unknown, but the more we learn about the origin of mutants the better we can eliminate the expendable and manipulate the ones who prove useful. Major Stryker, did your team extract blood and DNA samples from the aunt?”

 

“Yes.” replied the second voice again. “Once the woman had been terminated, we—”

 

“What!?!” Pietro suddenly blurted out while opening his eyes. He hadn’t meant to, but when the voice said his aunt had been terminated, he freaked out a bit.

 

“Oh good. He’s awake.” said the first voice, which belonged to an older man, well into his fifties with salt and pepper hair and a no nonsense face. He was dressed in a sharp looking dark grey suit and appeared to command the room.

 

Behind him stood a younger looking man in a military outfit, which Pietro could just make out was adorned with a nameplate that said Stryker.

 

The final individual was a fairly attractive woman with auburn hair and looked to be in her early thirties. If circumstances were different, Pietro might have even called her hot, but being that she was wearing a lab coat, holding a clipboard, _and_ he was handcuffed to a table of some sort, he had other things on his mind.

 

“WhatDoYouMeanTerminated? WhereAmI? WhoAreYouPeople? What’sGoingOn? ThisIsn’tCoolMan. LetMeGo. WhatDidYouDoToMyFamily? IfYouHurtThem, ISwearI—”

 

“Well that’s quite enough.” said the older gentleman. “Welcome, Peter, to your new home.”

 

“New home my ass.” said Pietro. “I asked you who you are and what the HELL DID YOU DO TO MY FAMILY?!”

 

“Now, now young man. No need to use that kind of language. I’m sorry to say that your aunt is dead. Unfortunate, yes, but necessary. We couldn’t have her bringing unwanted attention to our cause.”

 

Pietro felt numb. Marya couldn’t be dead. No. No. No. She’s always been there. She couldn’t be gone. “No. Nonononono. I’m gonna kill you! I swear to—” Pietro was unable to finish as the older man had placed a hand over his mouth.

 

“That’s enough of that. I think you’ll find that you’ll like to cooperate with us Mr. Maximoff. You are about to become a part of history and a part of a movement for the greater good.”

 

Pietro stuck out his tongue and licked the man’s hand, causing him to withdraw it in disgust, but enabling Pietro to start talking again. “Cooperate!? You actually think I’ll cooperate?! You murder my aunt! I am never going to cooperate! And I’m going to bust out of here and then you’ll all be sorry!”

 

Pietro started moving his body about very quickly, in an effort to break free from the cuffs that held him in place, but his struggle was futile. The metal bonds that held him were just too strong. When he finally stopped struggling, the only result of his actions were that his arms and legs now hurt in addition to his head.

 

“Are you done behaving childishly?” asked the man in the suit. “As I was saying, I think you’ll find it will be better for you to cooperate with us. You most certainly do not have to cooperate, but you will likely find your life much better off if you do. Oh and after all, you wouldn’t want us to have to take care of little, Mila, is it? We are already making an effort to find your twin, of course, since she is undoubtedly a mutant like yourself.”

 

Pietro was fuming with anger but he was also beginning to grasp the gravity of his situation. It was starting to fully hit him that he would never see his aunt again, and these people could very well hurt the rest of his family, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He felt tears begin to pool in his eyes, and he furiously tried to blink them away, not wanting to give the monsters in the room that satisfaction. “Why are doing this? I’ve never hurt anybody. Just let me go, and you never have to see me again.”

 

“No we won’t be doing that.” replied the older man. “You see, we need you Peter. We need you in order to find out what makes mutants tick, and how we can neutralize them and use the mistakes of nature they were born with to stop threats to our country and the world.”

 

“Dude! Kidnapping isn’t helping the world, and if you need help with something, do you know what normal people do? They _ask_ for help! They don’t murder and abduct people! Seriously, what’s wrong with you people!?” shouted Pietro.

 

“I don’t expect you to understand, Peter. You’re just a boy, but if you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have broken out a prisoner from a highly secured facility.”

 

Maybe the fact that these people were able to find locate him so quickly after his one _major_ crime spree should have scared Pietro even more than he already was, but actually it just made him remember something.

 

Erik. His father. He was still out there. He was still out there, and he was all kinds of badass.

 

_He’ll find me. He has to. I just hope he finds Mila and Wanda first._

 

“Now then…” said the man, clapping his hands together and bringing Pietro out of his thoughts. “I believe I have a meeting to get to, am I correct Major Stryker?”

 

“Yes Director Schlesinger, and I believe we are already late.” replied the man called Stryker.

 

“Ah no matter. This young man here is quite the chatterbox though. I think we will have to do something about that, Doctor Marshall…” said Director Schlesinger staring at Pietro intensely.

 

“Yes Director.” replied the woman.

 

Pietro shivered. He really didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the suspense rises! Just a note, there really was a C.I.A. Director Schlesinger, who was only in office for 6 months. I also read that he was really unpopular, but I doubt he went around kidnapping teenagers, so just remember his portrayal is completely fictional. Please comment. It motivates me to write more. (:


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Wanda. More suffering for Pietro. :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer died, and that was stressful, but I eventually was able to write some more, so here's another chapter.

Erik was getting tired of awkward road trips, but he was glad that they were at least doing something, headed somewhere, making progress in finding Pietro. Fortunately, Mila was awake and along for this drive because it kept the conversation civilized and fairly harmless, as she often steered the conversation, mostly discussing her favorite books, princesses, and activities to do with her siblings.

 

But even with Erik’s insistence, it had taken longer than he would’ve liked to get on the road; however, finally they had made it back to D.C. and to the train station and where they were now playing the waiting game, waiting and hoping that Wanda’s train would arrive soon.

 

Mila was a little ways away from the adult trio, playing some hand-clapping game with a couple of other children who were also waiting with their families for a train to arrive or perhaps depart, so Hank, Charles, and Erik were able to talk without being concerned with what was said around little ears.

 

“So what exactly is our plan here?” asked Hank. “Three adult men are just going to go corner a teenage girl as she gets off the train? It seems like that might not be the best idea.”

 

“We don’t exactly paint a picture of fear, Hank. You’re not quite what I would call intimidating upon first appearances when not in your mutant form, and I _know_ I look extremely threatening in my wheelchair and sweater.” said Charles sarcastically.

 

“Well what about Erik?” asked Hank. “He doesn’t exactly radiate friendliness, even if you’re her father, she doesn’t know that, and I’m pretty sure your illegitimate child isn’t going to welcome you with open arms, even if we’re able to talk to her long enough to unveil that piece of information.”

 

“You’re forgetting that Mila is here, Hank. She’ll collaborate our story, and we’ll just let the chips fall where they may. And don’t go around implying that my children are bastards, Hank. They’re completely legitimate, and I won’t have you or anyone else degrading them in that way.” growled Erik, his eyes hardening and taking a step closer toward Hank.

 

“Whoa, relax, Erik. I’m not judging, and I didn’t mean to insult them or you. Are you saying you’re married? I just assumed—”

 

“That’s right, you assumed, and—”

 

“Would you two knock it off please.” said Charles, cutting Erik off. “If you’d been paying attention and had gotten a little sleep like I suggested Erik, you might’ve been attentive enough to notice that Wanda’s train is arriving.”

 

Sure enough, as Erik and Hank became aware of what was happening around them, they both heard the tell tale sound of a train whistle approaching and as Erik focused on the metal in the area, he felt the metal locomotive draw near. An announcement was made over the speakers in the station as well: ‘Train 5972 arriving from Chicago.’

 

“Mila.” Erik motioned for Mila to join them before the inevitable rush of people arrived and got off the train.

 

“Is this Wanda’s train? Is she here? Is she?” Mila asked excitedly as she rushed over to join the group.

 

“Yes. It appears to be.” replied Erik. “Do you sense her Charles?”

 

“Yes and no.” answered Charles. “I can definitely tell she is on the train, but her mind and power is so chaotic and overwhelming; I can’t pinpoint her precisely.”

 

It looked like they’d have to find Wanda the old fashion way. The three men and Mila scanned the crowd of people exiting the train, trying desperately to locate Wanda before she disappeared into the city.

 

He was just beginning to lose hope when Erik spotted her. He was unable to react for a moment. She looked so beautiful and so like her mother that it was jarring. She was wearing dark jeans and black combat boots with a muted red leather jacket over a plain black t-shirt. Her auburn hair blew almost ethereally around her face. Of course, Erik had seen photos of her back at the Maximoff household, one of which had been fairly recent and now resided in his jacket with the other photos, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person.

 

_She looks so strong, just like her mother. God, I missed so much of her life._

 

As Wanda started to walk away from the group and toward the exit, Erik woke up from his shock and said, “There. I see her.” Then he began to follow her, not waiting to see if the other three were following him.

 

He walked quickly navigating through the crowd trying to get closer to his daughter. He saw her exit through the front of the station, and he was forced to jog a bit to keep her in sight.

 

Erik was going to call out to her, but he was afraid she would run away or that the same people that took his son were watching for her and he didn’t want to make it obvious who she was.

 

So Erik walked a little bit faster, closing the gap between him and his daughter. The crowd had finally grown sparser, but he probably would have lost her in the darkness of the D.C. night if she had not been wearing the red jacket. Erik said a quick pray of thanks for his children’s interesting fashion choices.

 

Finally, Erik caught up to her, and placed a hand on her should to get her attention, which in hindsight, probably wasn’t a good idea.

 

As soon as Erik touched her, Wanda whipped around and punched him square in the nose. Erik staggered. Fortunately, Wanda’s punch wasn’t quite as forceful as Charles’ so he was able to remain on his feet, but his nose still stung something fierce, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it started bleeding.

 

“Why are you following me pervert?!” Wanda demanded.

 

Struck again by how much she looked like her mother, Erik found himself at a loss for words, but he was saved by a call behind him.

 

“Wanda!” Mila cried out happily running past Erik and into an extremely surprised Wanda. Charles and Hank approached the group a second or two later.

 

“Mila? Oh it’s so good to see you, munchkin. I missed you so much. Are you alright? What are you doing out here? Who are these people, Mila?” Wanda asked returning the small girl’s hug and then grasping her hand tightly in her own.

 

“I missed you too Wanda! Why’d you ever go away? Awful things happened while you were gone.” Mila sniffled “Mommy…and Pietro…” the little girl began to cry.

 

Realizing her little sister was too distraught to answer, Wanda pulled the little girl close then looked defiantly at the three men in front of her.

 

“Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on, or trust me, you will all regret that you didn’t.” she said furiously

 

“Wanda, my name is Charles Xavier. This is Dr. Hank McCoy, and this is…Erik Lehnsherr.”

 

“Lensherr…why does that seem so familiar…wait! You’re that crazy escaped prisoner and mutant from the news! What the hell are you doing with my little sister?! And where’s my aunt and brother? I sensed…I mean they wouldn’t let Mila go out with strangers, let alone a wanted criminal!”

 

“Please, Wanda, try to keep your voice down.” said Charles glancing around, but luckily there were few people left in the area. “That’s why we came to find you, Wanda.” Charles continued. “Something has happened, involving your family.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Wanda coolly. “Tell me what’s happened!”

 

“Someone has taken your brother, Wanda, and we believe you may be able to find him.” replied Charles.

 

The three men saw fear in the teenager’s eyes at that statement, but she quickly put on a mask of anger. “What are you talking about. You’re lying. How could you know that? What do any of you have to do with my family?”

 

“Wanda.” said Erik, speaking for the first time. “It’s true. I found Mila at your house after Pietro was taken and your aunt she…I’m sorry Wanda, but she was killed.”

 

At this, Wanda glanced down at Mila for confirmation, who nodded silently through her tears.

 

“Why?” asked Wanda her voice wavering slightly. “Why would someone kill my aunt and take my brother? Who took him? Why do you three know all this? And why were _you_ at my house?” Wanda asked looking directly at Erik.

 

“I…your brother and I, I mean…well were going to go look for you.” replied Erik.

 

“What?! How would my brother even know you?”

 

“Uh…well…he may have helped break me out of prison…”

 

“WHAT!? Oh my God. What was he thinking? You know what, I don’t even care.” said Wanda her voice strong once more. “I just want to know where my brother is and that he’s okay. You said I could help you find him. How? And why should I trust any of you? You could have easily kidnapped my little sister and tricked her into thinking someone else took Pietro.”

 

Charles and Hank glanced at Erik. Wanda’s question of trust reminded them a great deal of there first encounter with Peter, but this time there was another factor that would hopefully get the Maximoff teenager to trust them, other than just their connection as mutants. It looked like the time had come for Erik to reveal his relation to Wanda.

 

Erik took a deep breath. “You can trust us because we’re all mutants just like you, and…and I’m your father.”

 

There was a moment of silence, then Wanda did something very unexpected. She laughed.

“Oh really? You’re my father, are you? And I’m the Queen of England.”

 

“It’s true, Wanda. Mr. Erik is yours and Pietro’s Vati.” Said Mila.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mila.” said Wanda but her initial faith that this man, this terrorist, Erik, was lying was beginning to falter. Mila never lied, so if Mila said this man was her father, then Mila at least believed it to be true. Wanda looked back at the man who claimed to be her father, and as she studied him, she felt her resolve failing even more. When the man named Charles had introduced himself and the others, Wanda had recognized Erik’s name from the news, but his face had seemed familiar too. That wasn’t possible though. There’s no reason she should find his face familiar. When he was on the news, his image was blurry and/or obscured by his helmet. Yet…as she looked at him she realized why his face seemed so familiar.

 

He looked like her brother, or rather, she supposed, her brother looked like him. His face was more chiseled by adulthood than Pietro’s, and he obviously had darker skin and hair than her unnaturally pale brother. He also had five-o-clock shadow that would make Pietro jealous, because despite his claims, her brother didn’t even have to shave yet, or at least he hadn’t when she’d left a year ago. But what really tore at her initial belief that the man was lying were his eyes. The deep dark brown orbs set into his face were undeniably like her brothers, and…like her own.

 

“I…I have proof, of sorts.” said Erik, pulling out a small bundle of what looked to be photographs, but he riffled through them too quickly for her to see what was on them.

 

Finding the photograph he was looking for, Erik handed it over to his daughter.

 

Taking it hesitantly in her hands, she glanced down to examine it. It was an old photo of her mother, and standing next her, holding the sister who had died before Wanda and Pietro were even born, was the man named Erik Lehnsherr.

 

Wanda was used to the unexpected and adapting to change, but this…this was too much. Her aunt was dead, her brother missing, and her father was a terrorist. Wanda closed her eyes tightly, and she felt Mila let go of her hand.

 

“Wa—Wanda? Are you okay?” Mila asked quietly.

 

Wanda opened her eyes and found four pairs of eyes staring at her in concern, not fear, which was unexpected because as Wanda looked down at her hands, she saw that red energy was pulsating around them.

 

Wanda forced herself to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate, and slowly the energy dissipated. “I’m fine.” she said brusquely. “Okay, so genetically you’re my father. Whoop de doo. Doesn’t make you my dad. I don’t remember seeing you at our birthday parties, sports’ games, school plays, and elementary and middle school graduations.”

 

Erik opened his mouth to speak, but Wanda cut him off before he could start talking.

 

“Don’t.” she said, raising her hand. “Don’t waste your breath on excuses. If the younger you was anything like what I saw on T.V., then I’m glad you weren’t around, but if whatever you got my brother involved in is why he’s missing now, you better pray to God that we find him, or I don’t care how many stadiums you can lift with your mind. I will make you regret the moment you walked into our lives.” she said, her eyes momentarily glowing red. “Now, Xavier was it? I think I’ll call you X. How do we find my brother?”

 ______________________________________________________________________

**Pietro’s POV**

 

Pietro was scared, and hungry. Oh god, he was so hungry. All they’d given him to eat was an old small loaf of bread and some water, which, granted he didn’t think he’d been captive for long, but it was safe to say he wasn’t normal and as far as sustenance went, a loaf of bread wasn’t going to cut it.

 

Even when he wasn’t running around all day, he needed a ton of calories to stay healthy. He guessed that they knew that too, so he was actually somewhat surprised that they hadn’t given more to eat, since he had a feeling they wanted to study the breadth of his abilities, and to do that, wouldn’t they want him in tip top shape?

 

Yet, he had an unfortunate feeling that they were taking a different approach. He was pretty sure semi-starving him was a tactic to wear him down and make him cooperative. Maybe eventually they’d get him back into full health, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

 

He’d tried to ask for more food, first being semi-reasonable about it, appealing to the logic that he needed more food to survive so they could poke and prod him and whatnot, then pulling out some sarcastic quips about getting some takeout when the former didn’t work, but now he wished he’d kept his mouth shut because the consequences weren’t great.

 

They’d released him from his chained position on the cold metal table, but now they’d shackled one of his legs to a long chain that seemed indestructible, so he had no chance of escape.

 

That’s not all they did though. They also fashioned something around his neck. Pietro couldn’t see what it was, but he found out soon enough.

 

He had been in the midst of chattering on about how he wanted a pizza with extra cheese, sausage, and pepperoni, when’d he’d felt electricity course through his body. The pain it caused was overwhelming, and in Pietro’s world it seemed to last for hours.

 

“Peter, Peter, Peter. Didn’t your parents teach you that children should be seen and not heard? Oh wait, I forgot. Your file says your mother died when you were barely out of diapers, and you don’t even know who your daddy is, do you? I would have thought that aunt of yours would have taught you better though.”

 

At this point, Pietro could see that the man talking was the military dude named Stryker.

 

“Don’t you dare talk about my family! You son of a b—”

 

He was unable to finish his insult however, as he again felt electricity course through his body. It probably only lasted a few seconds, but to Pietro, it again felt much, much longer.

 

“Now, now. What did I just say, Peter?”

 

Breathing heavily Peter struggled to form words again, “You’re gonna pay for—”

A third time Peter felt his body jarred by electricity, and when it finally stopped, he found he didn’t have the energy or bravery left to speak.

 

“That’s better. Really, Peter, I’d thought with your abilities you’d be a quick learner, but obviously I was wrong. Dr. Marshall.” said Stryker turning to greet the woman who had entered the room.

 

“Having fun Major Stryker?” asked the doctor.

 

“Oh just a little, the subject was being a tad insubordinate.” replied Stryker. 

 

“Well if you’re finished, Director Schlesinger wanted me to begin performing tests. You’re welcome to stay of course. The Director values your input, so it may be beneficial to hear your thoughts and tactics.”

 

“I’d love to stay, doctor. What’s on the agenda?” asked Major Stryker.

 

“Director Schlesinger wanted to start with some extensive X-Rays and a physical, as well as measure his speed as well as we are able. He’d like us to check his ability to heal to see if it is faster than normal; Eventually, he wants to break one of the subject’s legs to see if he’ll recover, but that won’t be for a bit yet. He wants us to get some good data first, incase it compromises the subject. Oh and some more ‘constructive’ electroshock therapy to instill within him his purpose and servitude to our cause.”

 

“Excellent plan. Oh and remember Peter,” said Major Stryker taking a step forward and bending down so that he was eye level with Pietro who had not moved from his position on the floor leaning against the cell wall where he’d been trying to recover from the electrical shocks. “you better cooperate. If you choose not to, the consequences for you will be downright dreadful, but the consequences for your remaining family members will be much worse than anything you could imagine.”

 

“You…you don’t…even know where they are.” Pietro stammered out, still breathing heavily.

 

“Is that really a risk your willing to take, Peter?” said Major Stryker as he stood back up to address Doctor Marshall. “Should we get started then?”

 

“Yes, the sooner the better. Progress doesn’t happen overnight after all. If you’d please secure the subject Major Stryker.” said Doctor Marshall.

 

“With pleasure.” replied Major Stryker an evil grin forming on his face as once again Pietro felt pain course through his body.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize the timing of how long it took them to get to D.C. and for the train to arrive might not be entirely accurate, but that was too much detail to try to figure out, so I apologize if the inaccuracy bothers anyone. You can just imagine they were waiting for a while before Wanda arrived. Also for any HP fans out there, did you notice the train number? I had to throw that in there just for fun. Please comment if you have time. Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car rides are a joy. Captivity is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this pretty quickly because finals have got me like :O so there might be typos, but I decided to procrastinate for a bit and this was the result...Enjoy!

If Erik ever met a mutant who could teleport, he’d probably kiss her…or him. It was really just tempting fate, cramming Erik and the others together inside an automobile that was basically a metal cage on wheels, especially when Erik could control said metal and the ‘others’ included his ex-friends, a precocious child, and not too mention, his estranged daughter. 

 

Once again Mila came to the rescue in the uncomfortable situation, acting as a buffer—both metaphorically and physically as she was situated in the rear middle seat between father and daughter—to the four others in the car. Erik hadn’t been sure that they’d even be able to convince Wanda to come with them, but it appeared that Mila’s affirmation of their story had been enough to get Wanda to trust them, or at least collaborate with them.

 

Charles had quickly explained to Wanda that he was a telepath and Hank, ingenious as he was, had created a machine that helped him expand his powers and find others like themselves, which is how they had located Wanda. He went on from there, sharing how they had tried to use Erik to locate Pietro to no avail, but they hoped with her connection as a twin to Pietro they would be able to find him, so that’s how they came to be traveling once more toward Charles’ estate.

 

Wanda had spent the beginning of the ride glaring ahead and ignoring Erik completely, and whenever their eyes did meet, she looked quickly away. The only time her face softened was when she was conversing with Mila, but even then she seemed very tense.

 

Erik didn’t blame her. He was tense for Christ’s sake. Who wouldn’t be in their situation? He knew he should try to do something to comfort her or make this whole ordeal a little more bearable, but he just didn’t know how. He should probably stop staring at her for one thing, but he found even that hard to do.

 

_She’s so like Pietro, yet so vastly different._

Like her brother, she obviously cared deeply for Mila, and felt protective of her. And also just like Pietro, she hid her insecurities behind a mask, but where Pietro’s mask was a combination of sarcasm, humor, and exuberant and exasperating behavior, her mask was one of carefully controlled anger and indifference. In that manner, Erik felt that maybe he and Wanda had more in common than himself and Pietro.

 

She was also very different from her brother in that she did not pester Erik with questions, and demand an explanation as to why he had not been there for her and her brother. In fact, she wouldn’t talk to Erik at all, and in his rather feeble attempts to try to tell her that he hadn’t known she and Pietro even existed until recently, she swiftly spoke loudly and pointedly over him to Mila, cutting him off before he could really get out what he wanted to say, until he had decided to quit trying, for the duration of the car ride anyway.

 

Although it had certainly been difficult to share his story with Pietro, afterward he had felt, not better exactly, but at least that he had given his son something. Something that Pietro could hold onto…a vision of what their life could have been if fate had been kinder…and Erik had been wiser.

 

Despite the atmosphere of ‘I don’t need you; I can take care of myself’ that practically seemed to radiate off of Wanda, Erik couldn’t help but stare—not so discreetly—in her direction. It had been challenging enough to watch Pietro break into a grin throughout the short time he’d enjoyed his son’s company and be so painfully reminded of Magda’s smile, but now, looking at Wanda, that pain was magnified tenfold. From the color and wave of her hair, to her slight nose and slender fingers, she was the spitting image of her mother in all but her eyes, which she shared with Pietro, and of course himself.

 

As their time on the road passed, Mila drifted off sleep. It was apparent to Erik that Wanda too was exhausted, likely haven risen very early in the day to catch the train into D.C. and then spent the entire ride in constant worry for her family, much as Erik had been doing throughout the day. He had hoped that she would allow herself to rest, but as she once again accidently locked eyes with Erik, only to glare at him then turn to look out her window, it was obvious she didn’t want to sleep while in the presence of three strange men, even if—especially if—one was her father.

 

That pained Erik, and he sighed, but decided that maybe the only way to help his daughter get the rest she needed was to succumb to sleep himself. He hoped that just maybe if he was unconscious, she would view the biggest threat to Mila and herself as incapacitated and

get some much needed rest, so Erik laid his head back against the window, closed his eyes, and drifted almost instantly into oblivion…

 

**A short while later...**

The back seat had fallen silent, so Charles glanced over his shoulder to check on the trio. He saw that Mila was asleep, her head resting against Wanda’s shoulder. Erik too was dead to the world, looking more like he was in a coma than sleeping.

 

_Finally. I was afraid he was going to pass out while we were out in about, and he’d have to be wheeled around in a wheelchair too._

Shifting his gaze over to Wanda he watched as her head bobbed as she attempted to fight against the lure of sleep for a few moments, until she could hold out no longer. Her eyes shut, and her head came to rest on top of Mila’s.

 

Feeling almost as though he was intruding on something, Charles turned back around.

 

“Are they all asleep?” asked Hank quietly.

 

“Yes, and by the looks of it, I would guess they’ll be out for the rest of the drive, but that’s good. The last thing we want is two sleep deprived children…and Mila.” Charles replied.

 

Hank chuckled. “Yea, Erik on full eight hours of sleep is not what I’d call a ray of sunshine…This is all pretty unbelievable though, huh? First we find out Erik has a son, who is the whirlwind that is Peter, then we learn he has a daughter, _and_ he seemed to hint that he was married. Like, what the absolutely hell? Next thing we know; we’ll find out he writes romance novels in his spare time. Man, you think you know someone and then…”

 

“Yes it is all rather…unexpected.” Replied Charles.

 

“Right?! I mean, I know Erik’s childhood was nowhere near spectacular, but once he escaped those horrors, did he go off and find some Leave it to Beaver life, and then suddenly decide one day, ‘hey today I think I’m going to go hunt Nazis and then liberate mutant-kind, I’m sure the wife and kids will be fine.’ ”

 

“That’s not quite what happened Hank. It’s not my story to tell, but you know Erik didn’t even have a clue he was still—he was a father until we dragged Peter into this mess. If you feel like your world has been turned upside down, Hank, just try to imagine how Erik feels.”

 

Hank was silent for a minute after that. “I see your point. I really do, and despite all Erik has done, I do feel sorry for him and his kids, especially his kids. And I am really worried about Peter too. I know Erik is partly to blame that he’s in the mess he is, but we our too. We’re the ones who got a teenager involved in something he should have never been a part of...”

 

“Yes. I feel the same, Hank. It was my intention not so long ago to provide a safe haven for mutant children, and now I’ve basically done the opposite of that…” said Charles

 

Again Hank took some time to respond. “Well…we’ll just have to get him back then and get the school back open. He can be one of the first students. Won’t that be fun?” said Hank breaking into a small smile.

 

Charles couldn’t help but grin a bit in return, “Yes that does sound like it would be ambitious of us, doesn’t it?”

 

Hank smiled wider and replied, “I know it’s probably not prudent to bring this up now, but can we just take a moment to appreciate the fact that _Peter_ is Erik’s son. Erik, who is so focused, intense, and always has to be in control has Peter as a son! Peter, who is practically the embodiment of ADHD and hyperactivity. I mean, part of me can’t help but think…justice.” Hank finished struggling to contain and quiet his laughter.

 

Charles didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Hank wasn’t being unkind. He was just truly reveling in the irony of the situation. It was quite funny, and Charles found himself chuckling too. It seemed even when he was nowhere near them, Peter had to power to bring joy to others.

 

Charles laughter slowly died out, as did Hank’s. They had to find Peter. There was no other outcome that would be acceptable.

 

**Pietro’s POV**

Pietro was exhausted. He lay face down on the old threadbare mat that was in his cell trying desperately to get some rest, but sleep wouldn’t come.

 

After Stryker had gotten tired of electrocuting Pietro for no apparent reason, they’d forced him to strip down to his boxers, and sent him through a giant X-ray machine. That part wasn’t so bad, it was the physical that was really embarrassing, as there were numerous doctors pocking and prodding him and ways that he was definitely not comfortable with.

 

After that he wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but he reckoned they drugged him again and moved him to a different facility because he vaguely remembered waking up in the back of a vehicle with blacked out windows before someone had noticed he had opened his eyes and they jammed a needle into his neck forcing him back into unconsciousness.

 

Maybe he’d imagined it all, and they hadn’t actually moved him, but he was pretty sure they had. He was probably in some remote location far from D.C…from his home…his family…

 

Whether they’d moved him to an entirely different location or just a building over, he might never know for certain, but when he woke again he was inside what resembled a giant indoor track. Then, before he’d even fully regained consciousness, they were forcing him to run. Round and round he went. Normally, Pietro loved running. To him, it was as easy as breathing, but they’d managed to take the joy out of it.

 

Although it was by far the largest track Pietro had ever seen, the fact was that he was still running in circles, which would’ve been bad enough, but that was the least of his frustrations. They took away his goggles, so he kept getting dust in his eyes, and whenever he stopped, they gave him a nice little shock followed by a verbal reminder that his family would pay for his disobedience, so each time Pietro fell, despite his scraps and bruises, he managed to pick himself up and keep going.

 

He didn’t know how long he ran, he’d never had a good grasp of time, but he was running with very little sustenance in his body, zero proper sleep, and he couldn’t keep it up for ever. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. He fell for what felt like the hundredth time, and he just couldn’t manage to get back up again, even when he was given a shock.

 

At some point his captors must’ve figured out that he was out of commission for the day because someone picked him up and threw him over his shoulder and carried him out of the indoor track down some hallways before dropping him none too gently onto an exam table and strapped him down.

 

Shortly after that, another individual in a white lab coat came in and before he knew what was happening it felt like he was being stabbed in his left arm repeatedly with a needle, which he realized after a moment was exactly what was happening. It wasn’t extremely painful and definitely not the worst pain he’d ever experienced in his life, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable and certainly not how he imagined getting his first tattoo.

 

When the white coat finished, he saw that in fine meticulous print the word mutant had been etched into his forearm and directly below that was the number 713.

 

_Guess that’s one more thing I’ve got in common with my dad now._

Just as that thought formed in his head, he felt a burning and searing pain shoot threw his left arm and he let out a cry of pain as tears arose in his eyes. Biting his lip to keep from letting out any lingering screams, he turned his head and looked down at his other arm. In about the same location as the tattoo on his other arm, there was now an X that was about an inch and a half across and in height, branded into his arm.

 

Pietro felt a tear escape from his eye. Did they really have to brand him with a mark indicating the X gene? With his hair, skin, and now tattoo, was it really not obvious enough already what he was? But no. They had to add one more scar to his body. As if he didn’t already have enough from the time in his childhood when he was force to bear the brunt of Bryan’s rage.

 

Pietro closed his eyes and felt more tears leak from them, and then he felt someone lifting him again, but he was still too weary to do anything but let himself be tossed around like a ragdoll. He wished he had the energy to take in his surroundings as he was carried along, but his arm still felt like it was on fire, and all he could take in was white walls and more people in white coats. He thought he saw what looked like other cells at one point but he just couldn’t get his mind to focus, so when he was dumped unceremoniously on the floor of a small bare room, it was all he could do to crawl over to the mat in the corner in lie there unmoving, as he poorly attempted to hold in sobs.

 

_Erik will find me. My…my father will find me. He won’t leave me here, wherever here is. He won’t._

But as Pietro finally drifted into unconsciousness, he felt his hope faltering.

 

_Ijustwanttogohome… I want to go home… I want to go home… I want to go home…I…want…to…go…home…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time deciding what number to use for Pietro's tattoo, but I didn't think it would be realistic to use a 6 digit number, so I just did another shout out to Harry Potter again. (Vault 713 anyone?). Questions, comments, concerns? Let me know. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Christmas everyone! I hope you enjoy the update.

Hours after the group had departed D.C., they finally arrived back at Charles’ home, and as Hank put the vehicle in park, the three passengers in the back seat arose from there slumber. 

“Well, here we are.” said Charles as everyone exited the car.

“You live here?” asked Wanda. 

Erik could tell she was struggling to keep the awe out of her voice. He knew Charles’ home was an impressive sight and having lived most of his life penniless, he could understand her amazement, but as he looked around he realized just how different he and Charles were. It had been a long time since the day he first stepped foot on these grounds, and he too remembered how he’d internally marveled that someone could actually have grown up here. Once again he felt a pang of guilt shoot through his body knowing that his daughter had never known such luxury, and even though the current Maximoff household was more than Erik ever had as a kid, he knew it had taken a lot for Marya to get even that amount of a haven for his kids, and now they would never even be able to return there.

But even as these thoughts when through Erik’s mind, it struck Erik once more that Wanda had been away for over a year.

Where has she been living all this time? How has she been getting by?

Caught up in his own thoughts he failed to realized that Charles had long since answered Wanda and the party had proceeded inside.

Erik walked quickly, reaching out with his mind to grab onto the front door’s metal handle to close it behind him. He then met up with the rest of the group and headed down to Cerebro.

“So how—how does this work?” asked Wanda as they entered the room containing Cerebro and watched Charles place the helmet apparatus onto his head.

Hank replied “The electrodes connect Charles to a transmitter on the roof. When he picks up a mutant, his brain sends a signal through through a relay and then—”

“No offense, but I don’t really care about the scientific aspect of it, I just meant how does it work in relation to finding my brother? What do I have to do?” asked Wanda cutting Hank off.

“Nothing really. It’s simply a matter of me using you as a beacon of sorts to locate your brother. All you need to do is allow me to tap into your mind and therefore your DNA to get a better sense of Peter.” responded Charles.

“O—Okay.” Replied Wanda hesitantly as she stepped closer to Charles.

“Whenever you’re ready I will need to place my hand to your temple. It helps me focus, and I think our chances of finding Peter might be even greater if I use both you and Erik…if you could please join hands, I think that will suffice as a connection.”

Erik who had been hanging back, took a few slow steps forward, wondering if Wanda would comply with Charles request. 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to—” Erik began to address Wanda, but she didn’t let him finish.

“It’s fine. If there’s a chance that it will help find Pietro, I can hold your flippin’ hand.” said Wanda, reaching out clasping his left hand in her right, tugging him closer to Charles with a tad more force than was necessary. 

“Err—okay I’m going to fire it up now Charles, if everyone’s situated?” asked Hank noticeably uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“Are you ready?” Charles asked Wanda placing his hand against her face.

Nodding, Wanda replied “Go for it X.” 

Then Charles heard Hank activate Cerebro and he felt his senses multiply. Using Cerebro with Wanda and Erik as anchors felt similar to when he had just had Erik to assist him in his search. However, this time he had a much better sense of what to look when trying to find Peter, and after just a moment, he felt an overwhelming awareness of life, that is, he knew Peter was alive out there in the world somewhere. Yet…for some reason, despite this overpowering awareness that Peter lived, and the bond that he felt between the twins, he could not locate Peter.

It didn’t feel as though another mutant was blocking him, more like a manmade device or specially constructed building kept him from finding Peter. He felt certain if the device was turned off or the building’s façade altered in someway he would know exactly where Peter was, but alas, all he knew was that Peter was alive, which was something at least, but not the news Wanda or Erik wanted to hear.

Charles opened his eyes and looked into the expectant gazes of Wanda and Erik.

Deciding to start with the good news, Charles began, “He’s Alive.” 

Charles watched as the faces of the father and daughter in front of him broke into smiles of relief. He knew even though they both had been certain Peter was alive, it was reassuring to have it confirmed. Their relief was short lived, however, and their smiles faded as they both asked simultaneously, “Where is he!?!

“I still don’t know. I’m sorry. I think whoever took him, has some sort of technology that is blocking my abilities, but I’m positive he is alive.”

Erik looked like he wanted to punch something, but as there was nothing readily available in the room, he had resorted to running both of his hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to tear it out. Charles didn’t blame him, and he was pretty impressed that he hadn’t uprooted any metal in the room in his anger. He was even more impressed though by how Wanda was reacting, until it occurred to him that she could be in shock.

The only movement she’d made was to stand up straight and rigidly. For a moment Charles was concerned that she had stopped breathing, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Nor, after further assessment, did it seem as though she were in shock. It looked as if behind her eyes, the gears in her mind were rapidly turning. Just like Peter whose mutation prevented Charles from reading his mind because it moved too fast, Charles could not read Wanda’s mind either though it seemed this was because her mutation acted as a psychic shield, not because her mind was moving at unimaginable speeds. Nevertheless, if Charles had to guess, from the look in her eyes he’d say it was currently running at a speed that might give her brother a run for his money. 

It was funny in a way that Erik who had been so desperate in the past to keep his thoughts to himself and particularly keep Charles out of his head had to resort to wearing a specialized helmet to keep his mind closed off from the rest of the world, whereas his children had the ability all their own. 

Knowing there was nothing he could do to calm his old friend he chose to ignore Erik—who had started cursing in German—for the time being, and direct his attention back to Wanda.

“Wanda, what are you thinking?”

“I—I want…Let me use Cerebro.”

“What?” replied Charles, Hank, and Erik together.

“Let me try to use Cerebro to find Pietro. It enhances your powers, right? So why shouldn’t it enhance mine too and my connection to Pete?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” said Hank. “This is very delicate equipment and Charles almost fried it a while ago after he’d been out of practice for…some time, and his mind is fully developed. There’s no telling what affect it could have on you or the machine. Even if you had a full understanding of your mutation, I don’t know that it would be a good idea.”

Wanda’s eyes became cold. “You don’t understand. I’m doing this whether you like it or not. My brother’s life is on the line here, and if you think I’m not going to do everything in my power to find him then you’re crazy.” 

“Wanda—” Erik began.

“Shut up. You don’t get to tell me what to do, or that this is too dangerous. I’ve been making my own decisions for quite some time now, and you don’t get to start acting like a father now.” 

“That’s not what I was going to say. I think…if this is what you want to do then you should. I wish I could take your place and that there were other options, but I’m not going to stop you. I want to find Pietro just as much as you do.”

Wanda gave Erik a slightly surprised but also skeptical look. “I doubt that. You barely even know him, but great, you’re on board so let’s do this.” 

Charles and Hank glanced at each other before Charles spoke. “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this? I have no idea what the consequences might be.”

“Yes! How many times do I have to say it.” replied Wanda grabbing Cerebro’s helmet from Charles and placing it firmly on her own head. “Now fire it up Doc.”

Mila who had been silent throughout this exchange spoke up quietly, “Be careful Wanda.”

Glancing over at Mila attempting to look reassuring Wanda replied, “Don’t worry Munchkin. I got this.”

“Okay.” said Hank, looking directly at Wanda from the command panel. “Here we go.” And with that he flipped the necessary switches and Cerebro was up in running. 

Instantly, Wanda felt like her mind was on fire, and for some reason, her left arm was also burning. Her right arm was a bit uncomfortable too, but what was way worse was the exhaustion she felt and the terrible, terrible hunger. Then she saw white walls, people in lab coats, and she felt a crushing sense of fear, right before electricity coursed through her body. Then she heard screaming and began to fall backward. As she did, the screaming continued and as she drifted into blackness and looked into the concerned gaze of Erik…her father…who had caught her in his arms, she realized the screaming was her own. 

________ERIK POV_______________________________________________

Erik had been watching Wanda intently as she placed Cerebro on her head and Hank started up the machine. For a moment, he thought it might be working and that Wanda would be able to locate Pietro. Her eyes had immediately turned a brilliant glowing pinkish red, the same color as the energy that had surrounded her hands back at the train station when she had gotten upset, but that hadn’t worried Erik because at first she seemed to be in control. But not a minute later, he knew something was wrong. 

Wanda’s posture had changed from determined to tense, and it looked like she was in pain. Then she’d started screaming, blood curdling screams that made Erik feel like his soul was being torn apart. He’d shouted at Hank to shut down Cerebro but just as Hank was about to turn it off, there had been a burst of red energy, Hank had been swept off his feet, and the control panel had been blown to bits. Throughout all of this Wanda was still screaming and as Cerebro exploded, Wanda began to collapse. Erik saw her waver and raced forward, catching her just before she hit the ground.

Erik was terrified as he held Wanda in his arms, still screaming, until the red faded from her eyes and she slipped into unconsciousness.

That had been four hours ago, and Wanda had still not woken up. Hank had checked her vitals, and he said everything seemed normal, and Charles said her mutation kept him from entering her mind but from what he could tell, she had just expended all of her energy and needed to rest. He thought that she should wake up soon.

But should wasn’t good enough for Erik. She had to wake up. He couldn’t lose another child. 

And although Erik’s immediate concern was for Wanda, he hadn’t forgotten about Pietro, and he hoped that when Wanda woke up she would be able to tell them where Pietro was being held, but until then he was once again powerless, and it frustrated the hell out of him.

All he could do was sit and wait for her to open her eyes. After Hank and Charles had deemed it safe to move her, Erik had carried Wanda up to one of the many vacant bedrooms in the house, and now he sat by her bedside, feeling all too like he was at a vigil. 

Erik reached out and felt her forehead. It was quite warm, but not dangerously slow. Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Erik withdrew his hand.

“Bitte wach auf mein Liebling ...bitte...1”

Folding his face into his hands, Erik took a few deep breaths trying to control his emotions when he heard the springs from the mattress squeak. 

He looked up quickly and saw that Wanda had sat bolt upright.

“Wha—Where am I?! I need to go use Cerebro again! I was so close to finding Pietro! I saw what he was seeing, and if I’d just held out a little longer, I know I would’ve been able to find him! I have to try again right now. It was awful. There were white walls and people in lab coats, and he…he was being tortured, and I…I need to use Cerebro now!” Wanda said jumping up off the bed where she staggered trying to walk toward the door.

Hank and Charles had come running to the bedroom at the sound of Wanda’s shouting, but it was Erik who spoke first.

“Wanda, you did wonderfully, but…Cerebro…it was completely fried. You won’t be able to use it again…”

“For at least three months.” Hank butted in. “It’s going to take at least that much time to fix it. You expended quite a bit of energy into it, and it was just too much for the system to handle.”

“No. No. don’t tell me that…” said Wanda her eyes welling up with tears.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.” said Charles. “Hank will work hard to fix Cerebro, and we’ll look into other ways of finding your brother but you need to rest. You were already unconscious out for hours.”

“AHHH!” Wanda screamed in frustration, her hands coming up to her head and pulling at her hair in a manner that was very similar to what Erik had done hours before down in the room that held Cerebro. 

Erik cautiously approached his daughter, and then placed his hands on her shoulders when she didn’t back away. “Wanda, this isn’t the end. I’m not giving up. We’re not giving up. We are going to find Pietro, no matter how long it takes. I promise you.”

Wanda’s face was dry, but when she looked up at Erik her eyes still glistened with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand. We are already too late. To Pietro it’s already been too long. Every second we can’t find him is a second too long. Time is…different for Pietro, by the time we find him, an eternity could have passed for him. Even if…even when we find him, he may still be lost…”

_____________PIETRO POV_____________________________________  
Once more Pietro found himself being tossed onto the cold hard ground of a blank and dismal cell. He had spent his day in what they called ‘shock therapy.’

For hours on end, happy little scientist with their pristine lab coats showed him photographs of Director Schlesinger, Major Stryker, Doctor Marshall, and all their evil geeky little friends. Then they’d shown him images of mutants and electrocuted him until they were satisfied. They even had a couple photographs of Erik all dolled up as Magneto thrown into the bunch. 

On the Brightside, the pain from the electrocution distracted him from the linger throbbing in his arm and his hunger and exhaustion. 

He still hated shock therapy though, and honestly, he found the whole exercise pointless. I mean, really, as if he was going to forget who was doing this to him. He knew where the real evil lived in this world. Although he had to admit, shock therapy was making him more docile and cooperative, which was their second aim, so congratulations to them.

Rolling onto his back in attempt to get more comfortable, Pietro was staring unseeing at the bright lights above him when he heard a voice originating from the wall next to him.

“Hey kid, you hangin’ in there?”

Looking around, Pietro concluded the voice had to have come from the fist sized vent near the floor in one of the walls of his cell. 

“Come on, kid, give me a response. Don’t be dead in there.”

Pietro tried to speak, but found his voice was hoarse from all of the electrocution and lack of use.

Coughing to clear his throat, Pietro managed to respond, “I’m…I’m alive…Lucky for me.” He added sarcastically.

In response, he heard a short chuckle, “You had me worried for a second there. Thought I was going to be alone in this shithole again. I tried talking to you when they brought you in and again when they brought you back from their little exercises, but you’ve always been pretty out of it until now. I thought they’d done you in this time.”

“Nope. Still kicking. How long have you been here?” Pietro asked. 

“A few weeks I think, maybe a month. It’s hard to keep track. So how old are you, kid?”

“Fifteen.” replied Pietro

“Shit. They really don’t care whose life they tear apart do they? Don’t worry, I’m going to get us out of here.” 

“Oh yeah?” responded Pietro  
“Yeah kid, I’m working on a plan. I mean, so far the plan is ‘escape’ but ya’ know I’m considering other options if you have any ideas.”

“Sorry, fresh out. If I was up to full strength and didn’t have this shock collar on, I would just try to break through the glass, but I’m pretty sure it’s bullet proof, and then I’d still have to get through the outer bars plus who knows how much more security past that, plus I don’t even know where we are. We could be miles underground or on a deserted island for all I know. And anyway, I can’t break out even if it were possible.”

“What do you mean?” asked the voice.

“They say they have my sisters or are watching them, and I can’t…Ican’trisksomethinghappeningtothembecauseIdidsomethingstupid.” answered Pietro.

“Whoa kid. Slow it down. I’m not exactly up to par right now, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping the convo at a slower rate, I’d appreciate it. I think I caught what you were saying though, and I understand. They told me they have my little brother too. I have a feeling they’re lying, but I can’t take that risk either. Even if I had a legitimate plan to escape, I couldn’t take that chance until I know he’s safe….so…you’re obviously a mutant if you’re in here. What’s your power?” 

At this question, Pietro actually found himself smiling a bit. “I’m fast. Like really really fast. Superspeedfast. Like outrun a bullet fast. Fasterthanyoucanblink,fast.”

“okay, okay. I get the idea.” said the other mutant with a chuckle. “Sounds pretty awesome.”

“Yea. It is….or it was before this place anyway. What’s your power?”

“I can generate and shoot strong plasma blasts.”

“Dude. That sounds awesome.” replied Pietro.

“Yea, I’ll admit, it can be useful. I used to be pretty bad at controlling it though when I was your age, but I’ve gotten a lot better at it. Not good enough though, evidently. These fuckers were still able take me down. Shit, sorry about the language. Shit, I did it again. Fuc—Fudge.”

“Man, I’m fifteen not five. I can handle the language and I think it’s pretty appropriate right now.” said Pietro.

“I guess you’re right. So any chance you’ve got someone on the outside looking for you? I’m hoping my military buddies are looking for me, but they don’t really have access to a whole lot of resources, so I’m not exactly hopeful.”

“Well...if my twin sister knew I was missing, I’m sure she’d tear the world apart to find me, but I haven’t seen her in over a year, so can’t really see how she would have anyway of knowing I was even missing…I think…well I hope my dad might be looking for me, but I only just met the guy, and I thought, I mean it seemed like he cared, but honestly, I don’t even know him, so…maybe he doesn’t…”

There was silence in the other cell, and Pietro wondered if the guy had stopped listening to him as he had rambled on, but then there was a somber reply, “Well…I’ll tell you one thing, kid. If I get out of here, you’re getting out with me. So what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you kid.”

“Pietro Maximoff, but you can call me Peter.”

“I wish the circumstances were better, but it’s nice to meet you, Peter. My name is Alex Summers.”  
___________________________________________________________  
1: Please wake up my darling ... please ...  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m probably going to do a time jump pretty soon, possibly in the next chapter, just to move things along. As always, please feel free to comment.}


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the story continues! Enjoy!

It had been three months since Pietro went missing. Three months, and they were still no closer to finding him. Yes, that meant that Cerebro was almost fixed, but that didn’t mean it would be able to lead them to Pietro.

 

Sure, besides helping Hank repair Cerebro, Wanda spent her downtime working to control her powers under Charles’ instruction, but there were still no guarantee that she wouldn’t destroy the machine again when she used it once more.

 

Wanda had been... not content exactly, because how content can you be when your brother is missing…but she had been determined. She knew that she had been so close to finding Pietro the last time she used Cerebro that getting it working again was the most viable option to locate him.

 

Erik didn’t feel the same.

 

He’d spent the summer covertly breaking into government facilities across D.C., trying to find any record of where Pietro had been taken, but his efforts had been for naught. Even on the rare occasion when he’d enlisted Hank and Charles’ help to get past tighter security, he still had nothing to show for his efforts. Whoever had taken Pietro was either not with the government, or the operation was heavily classified and went so high up the chain of command that he wasn’t going to find it recorded in any documents in known government facilities.

 

But Erik refused to give into despair. He’d made a promise to Wanda and to Mila that he would get Pietro back and he was going to do that or he was going to die trying.

 

It had been hard though, going day after day knowing that Pietro was locked up somewhere suffering for what may seem like years to him, but Erik had not allowed himself to lose focus, not since that day that Wanda destroyed Cerebro and then declared that even if they found him, it might still be too late.

 

That night had been…bad. Erik had taken a bottle of vodka and whiskey up onto the platform of the giant satellite dish on Charles’ estate and drunk until he couldn’t feel anything anymore, and then he kept drinking until he blacked out.

 

Honestly, it was lucky he hadn’t rolled off the dish and killed himself, but really it wasn’t luck. It was thanks to Charles that he hadn’t died from his own foolishness. Charles had obviously known what Erik was doing and he had sent Hank to retrieve him before he fell to his death.

 

The next morning, no one mentioned what had happened, but it went without saying that it wouldn’t happen again. Wanda and Pietro deserved better than that. They deserved a father that would go to the ends of the earth for them, not one that would wallow in his own despair until he died of a drunken stupor or consumption itself.

 

So no, Erik hadn’t touched an ounce of alcohol since that night, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to everyday Pietro was still missing.

 

The only good thing about the last three months was that Wanda had grown to, at the very least, tolerate Erik’s presence in her life because when he wasn’t breaking into government facilities, he made a point to go to Charles’ mansion and check in on their progress with Cerebro and take part in her training.

 

Wanda had never told him where she had been or what she had been doing during the year she had been away from home, but he didn’t press her to. Unlike Pietro, she didn’t want to know about his past, so Erik wasn’t going to force her into sharing her own, although he hoped one day they would both be able to share their stories.

 

Wanda still didn’t refer to him as Dad or Father either, but that was alright. Being called Erik was better than being called asshole, and Erik would take what he could get.

 

Mila had also really warmed up to Erik, and every time he came back to the mansion with no news of Pietro, she would walk up to him, wrap her small arms around his legs and say, ‘It’s alright Mr. Erik. We know you’re trying.’

 

With time, it had also begun to get easier to face Wanda. That is, every time he looked at her, Erik wasn’t reminded of the wife he’d lost. Yes, there were striking similarities between the two, but Wanda was her own person, and Erik had begun to see her that way. He now found joy, not sadness, in the times when he could see the wonderful aspects of Magda’s beauty and personality alive in his daughter.

 

Despite this improvement in their relationship, Erik failed to realize that throughout the summer Wanda had been suffering through a similar problem because she could clearly see Pietro every time she looked at her father, but she had grown use to it, and his visits motivated her to train harder and keep working with Hank to fix Cerebro, so that one day she would see her brother again.

 

And now, finally that day may have come.

This morning, Hank and Wanda had put the finishing touches on Cerebro a few days earlier than they’d originally thought and now they just had to wait for Charles and Erik to get back from their food run, so Charles could test it out before Wanda did. Hank felt that it would be less likely that Charles would overload Cerebro if there were any minor adjustments that they had missed than if Wanda were to use Cerebro right away, and not wanting to take any unnecessary risks, Wanda conceded to his rational.

 

So it was a couple hours later and after a few last minute fixes that Wanda was finally all hooked up to Cerebro waiting anxiously for the opportunity to find her brother.

 

“Okay. So just remember your training.” said Charles, “Relax your mind. Don’t focus on Peter right away. Ease into it, and slowly build up your connection. Then focus on where he is, not what he is going through.”

 

Wanda took a deep breath and nodded her understanding. This is what she had been training for all summer. She knew that’s what she had to do. She just didn’t know if she would be able to, but for the sake of her brother she better be able to.

 

“I want to try something else too.” said Wanda.

 

Charles raised one eyebrow slightly, “What do you mean?”  


“I think you were on the right track when you tried to use both Erik and me to find Pietro, but because you weren’t related to any of us, that’s why you couldn’t locate him. I think if I use Cerebro, with Erik’s help, I’ll be able to finally get Pietro’s exact location.”

 

“I think that’s a really excellent idea.” replied Charles.

 

“Me too.” said Erik stepping forward to join Wanda then hesitantly offering his hand and a small smile he hoped was reassuring.

 

Wanda took his hand in her smaller one, and to Erik’s surprise gave a small and short-lived attempt at returning his smile with one of her own.

 

“Okay, Hank. I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Turn it on.”

 

Following Wanda’s command Hank activated Cerebro, and even though he was a scientist and a bit of an agnostic, he prayed to God that this time they would be able to find Peter.

 

When Hank turned on Cerebro, it was just as painful as the last time, but this time, Wanda was ready. She didn’t let the fire in her mind over power her sense of purpose. Instead, she used her own ‘chaotic’ energy as she’d come to call it, to push against the pain, and squeezing Erik’s hand tightly she slowly focused on her brother.

 

After just a moment, she felt pain much worse than the first time she’d used Cerebro. The biting hunger and exhaustion she felt was much more intense, and her left leg ached something fierce. However, she managed not to let the pain overwhelm her. She held onto the connection, but forced herself to view her connection with Pietro on a geographical plane. Holding onto to that connection with all of her might through clenched teeth she called out to Hank, “Tell me if—when coordinates come through. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold onto the connection…he’s…he’s in so much pain.”

 

 “Just a little longer, Wanda! I think it’s working!” Hank called out, as Cerebro made a whirring sound. Then to his relief, coordinates came through. “GOT IT!” yelled Hank in triumph as he quickly shut down Cerebro.

 

As Cerebro went offline and Wanda felt her connection with Pietro break, she slumped over in exhaustion, but Erik was there to support her. Fortunately, Erik also voiced what she so desperately wanted to know but was unable to express as she was struggling to catch her breath.

 

“What’s the location? Where is he?”

 

“Hang on. I’m looking up the latitude and longitude on the world map now…” replied Hank spreading out a giant map in front of him. “Just a second…He’s…somewhere in the middle of Iowa.”

 

“Iowa?” asked Erik. “Are you sure? That seems random.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure. It makes perfect sense if you think about it.” replied Hank “Iowa is a fairly rural state. If whoever took Peter is as well-funded as I expect they are, then it wouldn’t be very hard to buy out a large piece of farmland, and build an underground facility.”

 

Having regained a little bit of strength Wanda pulled away from Erik and spoke up, “So this is it? We really know where he is? We can go get him?”

 

“Yes. We can.” replied Hank.

 

Filled with such relief and joy Wanda turned and hugged Erik tightly. Caught completely off guard, Erik didn’t immediately react, and right when he was about to Wanda pulled quickly away, seemingly just as surprised by her display of affection as Erik was.

 

“Right.” she said, straightening up and brushing her hair behind one ear awkwardly, “Well what are we waiting for!? Let’s get going!”

 

“Hold your horses Wanda. We can’t just go rushing off to Iowa to a likely heavily secured facility without some plan of attack.” stated Charles.

 

“Well we’ll figure that out on the way there! Hank mentioned awhile back that you have a private jet, right? But it’ll still take, what two to three hours to get there. That’s plenty of time to form a plan. Besides, you’re a telepath and I’m a tele—I don’t know, something or other, can’t you just mind control our way in? Plus, we’ve got Erik, who can just tear his way through any metal structure. I saw some of the place through Pietro’s eyes, it’s not all glass. They obviously didn’t plan to ever hold Erik there, so they had to have built it with a lot of metal.” countered Wanda.

 

“Wanda, I don’t think I’m going to be able to be of much assistance in this rescue mission. Yes, you’re probably right about the construction of the facility as far as metal goes, but we learned before that there’s obviously something blocking my abilities there, and that could extend not just in cloaking the building, but also throughout the entire facility.” replied Charles.

 

Wanda looked a little defeated at this pronouncement, and Erik had to admit that he was too, but he wasn’t about to let these challenges stop him, and he knew Wanda wouldn’t either. 

 

“Okay, yes that makes things more difficult, but I _know_ we’re still powerful enough to get in and out of there. We’ll scope out the place, and I’m sure Wanda’s right, and I’ll be able to rip into the building. Then Hank and I should be able to infiltrate it easily enough from there.” said Erik. 

 

“What do you mean _you_ and Hank?” asked Wanda. “I’m going too!”

 

“Wanda…I don’t think—” Erik started to say

 

“Look, Erik, I appreciate all you’ve done in trying to find Pietro, and the fact that your making an effort to build a relationship with me these past few months, even though I know I’ve been…standoffish, but you still don’t get to make my decisions for me, and besides you need me there. We all know we have a better chance of succeeding if we play all of our cards.” said Wanda glaring into Erik’s eyes, daring him to challenge her.

 

“Alright…” said Erik defeated. “But we stick together. Like you said, we’re stronger that way.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Even though they all wanted to rush off to get Pietro right away, in the end it was decided that they would wait until the next day. They needed time to prepare, and dissect any information Wanda could remember about the facility from her connection with Pietro.

 

Unfortunately, it was decided that Mila would have to accompany them on the mission, but she would remain outside of the facility with Charles the entire time. No one wanted to bring her even that close to what was bound to be a dangerous situation, but it was unavoidable. They couldn’t leave her alone at the mansion. She was too young, and they had no one they felt comfortable leaving her with. All of their close friends were either MIA or…dead.

 

As the last preparations were made, Erik wandered through the halls of the mansion. He was wearing what Pietro called his gladiator get-up, complete with the maroon cape and his body armor. He’d decided to bring along his helmet too, not knowing yet if he’d wear it. If it turned out Charles could communicate with him and the others, he’d leave it off.

 

Erik walked down the wood paneled hall of Charles home, impressed by how well they had all managed to shine up the entire place and return it to its original pristine state. After all, when this was all over Charles wanted to start the school back up again, and now that Cerebro was fixed he could actually look for potential students.

 

_He is a good teacher. He taught me how to control my power, though he probably regrets it now._

 

Erik sighed, moving along the hallway. Despite his and Charles past qualms, he hoped that one day Charles would allow his children to be students at the ‘Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.’ It would be a safe place for them, and it would give them a place that they could hopefully one-day call home, since their old one was lost to them.

 

As Erik reached the end of the hall, he realized he was outside of the bedroom Wanda had claimed for herself. The door was ajar, and Erik was about to announce himself, but then he saw that Wanda was facing away from the door, standing over the bed with her hands clutching something tightly. That something was Pietro’s silver jacket.

 

The way Wanda was standing so rigidly, Erik thought she might stay like that forever, but suddenly she whipped the jacket around, shoved her arms into the sleeves and pulled the jacket on over her plain black t-shirt. It was slightly big on her, but not to the point of being a hindrance to her mobility. Then she turned herself around, and saw Erik watching her.

 

“What?” she asked a little hostilely. 

 

“Nothing.” Erik replied quickly. “It looks good on you.”

 

“Yea, well…I figure Pietro’s going to want it back as soon as possible, so…he’ll probably kill me when he sees I’m wearing it though.” said Wanda with a sad smile.

 

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” replied Erik. “Are you ready to go?”

 

“Yea. Let’s do this.” She replied, and together, father and daughter headed down to board the plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: I have nothing against Iowa. I realize there are more than just farms there, but the setting works for the purpose of this story. Please feel free to comment. I appreciate the input.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelation is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t a typical chapter in terms of the POV, so it may not be too exciting, but the following chapter will be from different POVs in the heart of the action.}

SOMEWHERE IN IOWA...

Walter didn’t really like his job. At first, he thought it was a great opportunity. He got to move out of the big city—which he’d never really liked—and head to the middle of nowhere Iowa where he would maybe one day, when he was older, settle down, but then came all the secrecy.

 

He was just a lowly DNA specialist with dreams of making a difference in the world and saving lives. When his career was just starting out, he didn’t imagine he’d be working underground somewhere performing DNA testing on samples of unknown origin.

  
He wasn’t supposed to ask how his superiors were getting the DNA samples, and he didn’t. But he wasn’t stupid. After working at the facility for just a few weeks, he’d come to realize that the DNA samples most likely came from people—or mutants that is, it was easier if he didn’t think of them as regular people—who were either dead or imprisoned somewhere. And he got the terrible feeling that there were mutant prisoners within the facility where he worked, but he never asked. He didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

 

The underground facility was huge, so it was definitely possible that they could be keeping mutants there, but he’d never seen any of them. He just kept his head down, stayed in his lab, and did his job, while trying to force his conscience down deep into the pit of his heart, which was becoming more difficult everyday.

 

Desperately trying to push those feelings away, Walter focused on his task at hand. He’d been working on the current sample for some time now. Contrary to popular belief, DNA profiling wasn’t a speedy process, maybe one day, but not today.

 

The sample belonged to one: **PIETRO DJANGO MAXIMOFF** , although he didn’t know much beyond that. Birthplace, age, other physical characteristics besides what the genetic mapping revealed to him were classified. He was sure someone else got to see all the information, but he wasn’t so privileged, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. 

 

Wrapping up the profile for the current sample, he noted the similarities to the other profiles he had completed. Like almost all the others he’d been assigned to work on, it contained the X-gene, but that wasn’t what was bothering him about this sample. It had certain indicators that reminded him of another sample he’d looked into due to his own curiosity when he’d first accepted the job, but he hoped to God that the conclusion forming in his head was wrong.

 

Setting the current profile aside, he sorted through the other ones available, until he found the one he was looking for: **ERIK LENSHERR (aka MAGNETO)**.

 

Spreading out the contents of the file before him, he compared it to the one he had just finished, and as he did his palms became sweaty. There was no mistaking what he was seeing, the sample he’d so recently been working on and Magneto’s DNA profile were related. Not only that, but the new sample belonged to a mutant who was almost irrefutably, “Magneto’s son…” Walter whispered to himself unintentionally.

 

He looked around quickly, making sure no one had overheard him. Fortunately, the lab was pretty empty. There were only two other people working in it currently, but one worker, Maggie, a young scientist like himself who had arrived at the facility around the same time as him and whom he had a bit of a crush on, did make eye contact with him from across the room and proceeded to walk over to join him.

 

When she arrived, she asked, “What’s the matter Walter? You’re face has gone completely white.”

 

“I…it’s…” began Walter trying to find the right words, but also waiting for the other scientist in the room—who was probably older than both Maggie and Walter combined and who Walter did not especially like—to leave before he tried to form a coherent sentence.

 

“I was just finishing up this DNA profiling,” continued Walter, “And…well it seemed vaguely familiar, so I pulled out an old file, and well…look.”

 

Walter scooted over, so that Maggie could examine the two profiles, although she could not yet see the name on the older file. “Are these subjects, father and son? Is that what you concluded. That is mildly interesting. It shows the X-gene can definitely be inherited, and most likely always originates in the father, but we were fairly certain of that already. I still don’t understand why you’re face is as white as a sheet.”

 

“Look at who’s file that is.” replied Walter.

 

Maggie shifted around the papers, until she found the name at the top. “But this is…no freaking way. Magneto has a son!?!” 

 

“Yea it certainly looks that way.”

 

“Oh my God! This is…this is great!”

 

“What? Why would you…how can you say that?” asked Walter.

 

“Do you know how much respect we’ll get for discovering this. It could substantially advance our careers.” replied Maggie in excitement.

 

“But…I mean…Magneto can’t be that old. From what we know, mutants don’t age as quickly as humans, but he’s gotta be like 40 at the most…”

 

“What’s your point?” asked Maggie sounding a little exasperated.

 

“My point is, his son can’t be that old, probably still a minor, and if they have his DNA then they probably have him locked up somewhere or…worse.”

 

“Yes, probably.” said Maggie devoid of emotion.

 

“Well, doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’m not naïve. I knew they had to be getting DNA samples from somewhere, but from kids…that’s just…wrong, and I don’t know if we should report this. Being Magneto’s son is going to put a target on his back more so than being a mutant already does.” said Walter in a rush, unintentionally lowering his voice back to a whisper.

 

“He’s not a human kid, Walter. He’s a mutant, so no it doesn’t bother me, and if you’re not going to report this, then I most certainly will. It’s our duty. Any information we have on mutants could be vital to the protection of the human race, and if you’re not on board with that then I’m going to have to report you to.” finished Maggie sternly gazing at Walter with a great sense of self-importance.

 

Suddenly Walter realized he didn’t have a crush on Maggie anymore. “Don’t bother reporting me. I resign. I can’t…I can’t live with this anymore. I know I can’t stop it. I’m not brave enough to try to end what’s going on here, but I’m certainly not going to be around when it all goes to shit.”

 

“What are you talking about? This is what your good at! Your helping mankind! And how could you possible think it’s going to fall apart? This facility and the entire operation is state of the art.” replied Maggie incredulously.

 

“You do what you want, Maggie, but like I said, I’m not brave. And I know you think the higher ups will be extremely glad to find out they have Magneto’s child in custody…or his remains, which I’m sure you’re right, but I’m not going to be around the day Magneto finds that out. Because when he does, I certainly wouldn’t want to get in his way.”

 

And with that Walter shook off his lab coat, and walked out the door of the lab, wondering if he could still apply for the teaching position at Columbia, and if he could catch a flight back home to New York that evening. For some reason, he really missed his family, particularly his dad.

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A SHORT WHILE LATER AT THE CIA HEADQUARTERS

 

“Excuse me, Director Schlesinger.”

 

“Not now Chris. I’m busy.”

 

_I’m going to have to get another new assistant if this one keeps failing to recognize when I’m otherwise engaged._

 

“I understand Director Schlesinger, and uh it’s Kyle, but anyway Dr. Marshall is currently on your secured line. She says she has important time sensitive information.”

 

With a huff Director Schlesinger replied, “Alright put her through.”

 

Picking up the phone a few seconds later, Director Schlesinger remained rather irritated, but reminded himself Dr. Marshall wouldn’t have called without vital information “Dr. Marshall, to what do I owe the pleasure? You wouldn’t be wasting my time, would you?”

 

“Certainly not, sir, but earlier today one of our DNA specialist brought an intriguing bit of information to my attention that I knew you would be interested to hear.”

 

“What might that be?” asked the director. Dr. Marshall now had his full attention. He could tell there was legitimate excitement in her voice.

 

“You are aware of course of subject 713?” asked Dr. Marshall

 

“I’m sure I am, but remind me in particular to which individual 713 refers. I have a lot on my mind, and no space to keep an internal catalogue of all of our current subjects.”

 

“Right, sorry sir. Subject 713 is Pietro Django Maximoff.”

 

“Oh yes, our little delinquent speedster. Have you found a way to replicate or neutralize his speed?”

 

“Well, no sir, but—”

 

“Then why are you wasting my time Doctor?” asked Schlesinger, his annoyance returning.

 

“It’s what we found in his genetic code…”

 

“Continue.” replied the director.

 

“It seems his is a partial match to a former prisoner.”

 

“What do you mean by that? What prisoner?” asked Schlesinger, his curiosity building.

 

“It’s linked to Magneto’s, sir. The Maximoff boy is Erik Lensherr’s son.”

 

Director Schlesinger was dumbstruck, so much so that he almost dropped his phone, and Dr. Marshall began to think she had been disconnected with him.

 

“Sir…?” she asked.

 

Regaining his composure and reeling in his glee, his mind began to turn. “Who all is aware of this?”

 

“As far as I am aware, just the employee who brought it to my attention, myself, Major Stryker, and now you, sir.”

 

“Good, good. Let’s keep it that way. This is excellent news doctor. Absolutely, excellent. We may have just found the key to recapturing Magneto. Now, again, keep this information under wraps, and I will get back to you with further instructions. I may just have to pay the facility another visit myself too.”

 

“Very good, sir. I will—”

 

Doctor Marshall was cut off in her reply as an alarm began going off in the background. “Is there a problem, Doctor?” asked the director, slightly concerned, but too enthralled by this new revelation to be overly worried.

 

“No, sir. I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just a system malfunctioning. I look forward to your call.”

 

“Good. We cannot afford any mishaps when we just may have gotten a leg up. You’re dismissed Doctor.” replied the Director with a twisted note of pleasure in his voice. Hanging up the phone, he smiled to himself and mumbled quietly, “I’ve got you now Magneto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you found this chapter kinda boring. I felt it necessary to include, but it was unfortunately missing my favorite characters. Don’t worry though, they’ll be back! Also, I do not know anything about DNA analysis, so I am sorry if it sounds really unscientific.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. I hope you continue to enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I am so excited for you all to read this next chapter. Please comment if the mood strikes you.

* * *

 

ALEX POV

 

Alex knew something was happening as soon as he woke up. He’d spent the past couple of hours waiting for his impending dose of ‘treatment’ or what might be more recognizable as torture, but the main doctor had been pulled away for some other pressing matter, so Alex had been left strapped down in an examination chair, on edge as he waited for what would eventually come.

 

The last few months or more—he wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been at the facility—had not been pleasant. He could tell he’d lost weight, and all of their examinations and testing had not been kind on his body. He knew he was thinner than he’d ever been, and his body constantly ached, but he was more worried about the kid.

 

Every time he’d seen the kid being dragged or carried pass his cell, he’d been thinner and thinner, and it wasn’t hard to guess that their captors obviously weren’t giving him enough sustenance to compete with the increased metabolism that must go hand in hand with his speed. Maybe they didn’t realize that by feeding Pete the same diet as him or who knows how many prisoners they were slowly starving him to death. But more likely they did know, and they just didn’t care.

 

Alex was also worried about Peter’s state of mind. In the kid’s first few weeks at the facility, whenever he’d been in his cell and lucid, he’d been quite talkative, going on and on about music, movies, and all the things most teenagers obsess about. It had actually been really nice to have someone to talk to, and he was pretty sure that his conversations with Peter were the only thing that came him sane in a place like this.

 

Yet, in recent weeks, he had noticed that Peter had become less and less talkative, and Alex had found himself filling the silence, trying to bring back the loquacious kid he first met. Alex’s efforts didn’t seem to be working though. In fact, he wasn’t sure Peter had uttered a single word to him in the past couple of days. He didn’t blame the kid. Alex was barely keeping it together himself, and with the way Pete had explained his power, Alex guessed that even though he’d arrived in the facility before the kid, from Peter’s perspective their life of torture had been going on much longer than it had for Alex.

 

It was Alex’s concern for Peter that prompted him to do something that he might regret. Throughout the duration of his imprisonment he’d been afraid to attempt an escape for fear that the psychos who held him hostage also had his little brother, but recently he’d come to the conclusion that more likely than not they were bluffing.

 

He’d seen no evidence that they had Scott in their custody. Surely, if they did, they would have shown him video of his little brother being tortured as a result of Alex’s occasional insubordination. No, he was fairly certain that Scott was safe. He’d been living with their grandmother, since their dad went AWOL, but his grandma was a smart lady and when Alex stopped corresponding with her, she probably figured something was up and went into hiding.

 

That’s why when Alex heard an alarm ringing out, he decided he wasn’t going to remain compliant any longer.

 

Concentrating, Alex allowed plasma energy to burst from somewhere inside him, melting away the metal restraints around his arms. Sitting up, Alex very carefully shot a blast at the restraints around his legs, fortunately, he was successful and managed not to blow his feet off.

 

_Thank God I’ve learned a little self-control._

Standing up and shaking off the slight dizziness he felt from being inactive for the past couple of hours and expending his power and just fatigue in general, he took aim at the door locking him in the exam room and blew a hole threw lock. Kicking open the door Alex glanced hesitantly out into the hall. The alarm was still blaring, but there was no one was around, so he took off at a slight jog back the way he believed led to his and Peter’s cells. They always kept him at least slightly drugged when moving him from place to place to keep him unaware of the facilities layout, but more recently he had seemed more alert during transfers. He figured he must be building up a slight resistance to the drugs.

 

Turning down another hallway he saw a couple of guards at the end of the hall.

 

“FREEZE!” They shouted raising their guns “Return to your cell immediate—”

 

Alex couldn’t tell if they were tranquilizer guns or the real deal, but at this point Alex didn’t care either way, and before they could even finish the command Alex had shot a blast at them, knocking them out or killing them, Alex didn’t stop to check. Instead, he just turned another corner, at which point he ran smack dab into one of the last people he expected to see.

 

“Erik?” he said at the same time Erik said, “Alex?”

 

“Never thought I’d be happy to see you again.” said Alex regaining his balance from his collision with Erik. Under any other circumstances Alex would have had a few choice words for Erik, along with a good square shot to the jaw, but at the moment he was too concerned about getting Peter and getting out of this hell hole to think of much else besides being grateful for the fact that their heads hadn’t collided because Erik, as usual, was wearing his ridiculous helmet, along with his cape.

 

_I mean really? What self-righteous asshole wears a cape?_

Alex also noticed that Erik wasn’t alone. Hank was with him in full beast mode, along with a skinny teenage girl who was wearing an absurd silver jacket, and looked to be about Peter’s age.

 

“Well, hey Hank! It’s practically an X-men reunion.” Hank gave him a grave smile in return and looked like he was about to speak, but the girl spoke up before he could.

 

“We’re wasting time! Look, Alex? Or whatever your name is, based on the state you’re in and the fact that they both know you, you’re obviously a mutant, so just head back the way we came and you’ll eventually find where we blasted our way in. We took out any guards we encountered so you should have no problem getting out. Now. Erik. Hank. Let’s figure out which one of these hallways to take and get moving!”

 

“She’s right.” said Hank. “Get out of here Alex. Once you’re top side, Charles will be able to contact you and instruct you from there—”

 

“I’m not leaving with out Peter.” replied Alex, looking down the two remaining hallways in the ‘crossroad’ whose locations where unaccounted for. He knew one of them had to lead to his and Peter’s cell, but before he could make a decision on which way to go, Erik grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him against the nearest wall.

 

“Peter? Peter Maximoff? Where? WHERE IS HE?!” yelled Erik.

 

“Okay, anger issues, Erik. Yea Peter Maximoff. Kid’s cell was right next to mine, as for where that is in relation to us that’s what I’m trying to figure out before I ran into you. I think it’s this way.” said Alex pointing to his right, “but I’m not sure. Now, since we both obviously want to find the kid, could you let go of me?” Alex looked at Erik expectantly. He knew Erik took every attack against mutants as a personal offense, but his reaction to hearing the kid’s name seemed extreme. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

 

“Sorry.” Grunted Erik releasing his hold on Alex.

 

“Okay, so we have to split up. Erik, go check out this Alex’s hunch and I’ll go this way.” said Hank tearing off down the other hall.

 

“I’m going with him. We shouldn’t split up three to one.” said Wanda taking off down the hall after Hank

 

“WANDA! Come back!” Erik called after her.

 

“Just go! We have a better chance of finding Pietro this way, and that Alex guy looks like he needs back up!” yelled Wanda over her should before disappearing out of sight.

 

“Come on, Erik. The girl’s right. Let’s go.” said Alex watching Erik as he gave a reluctant look down the other hall before jogging off with Alex down the remaining corridor.

 

As they ran down the hall, passing what in Alex’s mind looked like torture chambers, and some offices. Fortunately, after a bit, things began to feel familiar. “This way.” Alex called to Erik, sliding abruptly to a stop in his bare feet and turning down another corner.

 

Occasionally the two encountered more guards, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. It seemed Wanda was right and they hadn’t planned for Erik to ever come barging into the place, so they hadn’t bother to invest in non-metal weapons.

 

Finally, just as Alex felt as if he was on the cusp of keeling over—running + starvation + torture is really not a good exercise regime—they made it to the beginning of the hallway where Alex and Peter resided for the majority of their stay in the facility.

 

“This is it.” said Alex slowing to a walk, and finally taking the time to wonder why Erik was so invested in getting Peter out of here. He knew from past experience that Erik did not take well to mutant subjugation, but it seemed to Alex as though the man was on just as much of a personal vendetta as he was himself.

 

Moving past the door that led to Alex’s cell, Alex simply pointed at the next door and Erik ripped it outward from its hinges. Next came the gated bars, which Erik tore apart as well. Then all that was left was one final door to the cell. The two couldn’t see into the cell for the viewing window had had a steel covering come down over it. Presumably it had been activated when the alarm system went off.

 

Alex could tell Erik didn’t pay much attention to this though as he tore open the last door with a look of determination then tore into the room himself with Alex right behind him, but both were jolted to a stop by a voice in the cell inside.

 

“Stop, or the boy dies.”

 

Alex could feel his blood boiling, but he didn’t see how he could act quickly enough to free Peter.

 

Major Stryker was holding the boy in a headlock from behind with his right arm, and in his left hand he held a syringe pointed dangerously close to the kid’s neck. It was obvious Stryker had made an effort to remove all metal from his clothing, as he wore only a plain white t-shirt, pants with no belt, no watch, and shoes without any metal buckles.

 

It pained Alex to witness Pete, who was quite clearly in poor shape, being held an in uncomfortable upright position. The boy was severely malnourished, not Holocaust victim thin, but somewhere around starving castaway survivor thin, making it all the easier for Stryker to keep the kid on his feet, or on the tips of his toes that is. Stryker was a good deal taller than Peter, and didn’t seem to notice or care that Peter was struggling to keep his feet on the ground, so he wouldn’t be preemptively strangled to death. This was proving to be even more difficult for the kid because his left ankle looked severely swollen, purple, and out of alignment. The kid was also sporting a dark purple and gruesome looking black eye that looked to be the result of someone smacking him across the left side of his face. Despite all of this, the boy still made one weak effort to break free from the Major’s vice-like grip, but it was clear the he didn’t have the strength or energy to do so.

 

“Just let him go, and I won’t make your death a slow and painful process.” said Erik through his teeth, anger coursing through every inch of his body.

 

“I said stop, Magneto!” repeated Stryker, as Erik had taken a step forward. “You’re not in any position to negotiate. Here’s what’s going to happen. You and _Havoc_ over there are going to pick up those syringes filled with a tranquilizer,” continued Stryker nodding to two syringes on the floor in the middle of the room, “and inject yourselves with them, and I won’t inject the kid with this lethal dose of anesthetic. And trust me, it will be lethal, even with his increased metabolism. I made sure the dose is quite potent. So _Erik,_ what’s it going to be? Are you going to sacrifice your freedom or your _son_?”

 

_Maybe I can blast him just right, and knock him out. Dammit, I can’t risk hitting Peter though, wait SON?!_

 

Stryker must’ve noticed the shock come across Alex’s face because he started monologuing again, “Oh? Is your relation to the boy a secret, Magneto? I guess the cat’s out of the bag. How does it feel having a little mutant offspring? Maybe you should let me kill him. I don’t know what I’d do if my son were a mutant.” Continued Stryker in disgust. “I’d be doing you a favor, really, killing the boy. There’d be nothing to hold you back, and more importantly there’d be one less mutant in the world.”

 

Alex’s mind was spinning out of control. Erik was Peter’s dad?! How was that possible. The two seemed like polar opposites! And did Peter know Erik was his father? If not, this was really turning out to be a rough day for the kid.

 

“ _Dad_ …” Peter squeaked out in a pitiful plea.

 

_Well that answers that question._

“Es ist in Ordnung, Pietro. Alles wird gut sein _.” 1  _said Erik, his entire attention focused on the boy. “Don’t hurt him. We’ll do what you say.” Continued Erik now addressing Stryker.  “Yea leave the kid alone.” added Alex, moving slowly toward the syringes on the ground with Erik. Alex had no desire to be a prisoner again, but he wasn’t going to let the kid die. They had to do what they could to survive now, and worry about escape later.

 

 

* * *

 

ERIK POV

 

Erik walked very methodically toward the middle of the room where the syringes lay, fear and anger consuming him, but as he was just about to bend down to grab the syringes, a tiny piece of metal called out to him. A piece of metal that fortunately whether out of sentimentality, devotion, or simple oversight, Stryker had neglected to remove from his body: His wedding ring.

 

Without a second thought Erik acted, flinging his arm forward out of habit and for better control. Erik latched onto the small circle of metal around Stryker’s left ring finger, and commanded the metal to wrench the man’s hand backward.

 

The effect was instantaneous. Stryker yelled out in pain and surprise as his arm, along with the syringe went flying backward and his grip on Pietro lessened dramatically. At the same time, Erik ran forward and landed a square punch to Stryker’s temple, knocking him out cold.

 

Turning back to where Pietro had fallen, Erik dropped to his knees and gathered the boy in his arms.

 

“Pietro. Pietro!” Erik called out in a plea, for the boy had gone unresponsive and Erik wondered in fear if Stryker had someone managed to inject him with the anesthetic before it was pulled from his hand. “Pietro!” Erik called out again, his voice rising. “Kleiner Gepard. Öffne deine Augen. Öffne deine Augen.2”

 Erik put his hand to the boy’s forward, brushing his silver hair out of his eyes. Then he put two fingers to his son’s neck, trying desperately to find a pulse, but he felt nothing… “No. No. No.” Erik began to chant, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, until he realized that with Pietro’s mutation, his pulse might always be too quick to be detectable. Hope rising, Erik bent forward, so that he was close to Pietro’s face and turned his head listening for any signs of life, and when he did so he heard Pietro’s quite but steady breathes, and felt relief like he’d never felt before. Erik sat up again, and hugged the boy’s limp but alive body close to his own.  Unfortunately, that was when Hank and Wanda came bursting into the room, and although Erik knew Pietro was alive and soon he would be safe, all Wanda saw was her father with a tear streaked face, and her brother’s ragged and lifeless body in his arms.  “No.” Wanda said, and even though her connection to her brother told her that Pietro had to be alive, her mind couldn’t reconcile that with what she was seeing before her. Erik tried to voice that Pietro was still alive, “Wan—” but he was cut off by Wanda’s increased panic. “No. No! NOOOOO!” she shouted growing louder and louder, and that’s when everything went to hell.  As her shouts grew, so did the red energy around her hands. It streamed up around her body, and came to consume Erik and Pietro as well, acting with the force of what felt like a mini tornado, the energy which kept Wanda, Erik, and Pietro at the center, pushed Hank, Alex, and the unconscious Stryker to the edges of the room.  “WANDA! HE’S—” Erik attempted to say again, but it was too late. She’d lost control, so Erik did the only thing he could. He grabbed her hand and hugged Pietro tightly to himself, as the red energy consumed them, and he felt as if he was being torn from the universe, which unbeknownst to him, was exactly what was happening…  

* * *

 

1: It’s alright, Pietro. Everything is going to be alright.

2: Little cheetah. Open your eyes. open your eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so guilty when I don’t update because I hate waiting on fics but unfortunately my writing pace probably won’t change. This is a pretty long update though, so I hope you will forgive me. Anyone see the new X-men Apocalypse trailer? I’m so excited and more quicksilver! Yeah! I’d really like to have this fic finished before the movie comes out, so I’m not influenced by it, but that’s probably wishful thinking on my part. Warning: This chapter gets a little graphic in terms of describing injuries.

_Damn dog._

Al Walker thought to himself as he traversed one of the gravel roads running through the corn field of his farm in his beat up John Deere gator. He was out looking for the young pup he had foolhardily taken in. He’d found the pup wandering around his farm a few weeks back in poor shape, and being the old sucker that he was, he had nursed the pup—Copper as he’d deemed him—back to health. But now that Copper was back on his feet, the pup had decided to dig his way out of the fenced in area he had put him in for the night and high-tail it to who knows where.

 

Al has had a lot of farm dogs throughout the years, and he never kept a close watch on them once they were grown, but he hadn’t fully trained this new addition to the farm, and he didn’t think Copper was quite smart enough yet to stay off the road. Even though Al often tried to pretend he was an old grump, he didn’t want the pup to end up as road kill.

 

So that’s how the 65-year-old Vietnam vet, and third generation farmer, found himself wandering about the back roads of Iowa in the middle of the night, rather than snoozing in his dilapidated lazy-boy arm chair to the sounds of a _Cheers_ rerun he hadn’t quite made it through.

 

_I’m getting to old for this._

 

Just as the farmer was considering giving up and continuing his search in the morning, the young pup ran out in front of him, wagging his tail happily.

 

Al slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the gator to retrieve the dog. He picked up Copper who just continued to wag his tail and attempted to lick Al’s face. “Dammit Copper. You’re more trouble than your worth.” said Al in feigned anger, setting the pup on the seat beside him and giving his head a pat.

 

Al was in the middle of a U-turn when a giant red blast lit up the sky off to his right in the middle of the cornfield, but before he had a moment to think ‘what the hell?’ a shockwave of red energy blasted him off the gator, with Copper flying into his arms. Although the wind was knocked out of him, fortunately, the gator remained upright. He might be sore in the morning, but at least he and Copper weren’t dead with the gator on top of them.

 

Getting to his feet, Al felt extremely grateful that he kept himself in shape. Another man his age might’ve broken a hip from that fall. Now that he had his bearings, Al was feeling wary. What could’ve caused that blast? Had something crash landed on his farm?

 

Grabbing the shotgun and flashlight he always kept with him when he was out and about at night from the back of the gator and tying up Copper to the gator with the leash he’d brought along, the old man headed into the depths of the corn toward the origin of the blast.

 

Al didn’t know what to expect as he crept along as quietly as possible through the corn, so he kept his gun and light aloft, but not on, pointed ahead of him. His heart was thudding in his chest. He wasn’t really afraid for himself, just of what he’d find in the heart of the field. If there had been a plane crash—though he had no idea what sort of plane would make a red shockwave—he didn’t expect there to be survivors. 

 

Pushing the stalks aside, Al stepped out into a circular clearing about the size of the basketball court that had not been there the day before. Stepping on downtrodden cornstalks, Al advanced toward the center of clearing where he could just make out some shapes in the moonlight on the ground.

 

As Al came closer to the indistinct figures, he made the decision to turn on his flashlight so he could see just what he was dealing with. Raising his gun and flashlight together, he switched on the light.

 

The beam landed directly on one of the dark shapes, revealing the face of a young man—at least by Al’s standards—in a metal helmet who looked rather disoriented, but before Al could utter a word, the man quickly raised his hand, and he felt the gun leave his arms and himself go flying through the air, as if an invisible force had hit him straight in his belt buckle.

 

For the second time that night, Al found himself on the ground with the wind knocked out of him, but this time he didn’t have the strength to get back up right away. He’d hit his head rather hard, and his ears were still ringing from the impact, but slowly they stopped and he heard voices and what sounded like a young girl’s cries pierce the silence of the night.

 

Then a man’s voice spoke up over the cries, “Wanda. Wanda. Look at me. He’s alive. He’s unconscious, but alive. He’s going to be alright now. I promise you. He is.”

 

The crying stopped.

 

“He’s really alive?” asked a small female voice.

 

“Yes.” replied the man’s much deeper voice that sounded as if it held some sort of European accent. “Wanda…where…where did you take us?”

 

“I—I didn’t mean to. I just…I saw him lying there and you were…I couldn’t control it. I just wanted to get us out of there…away from them…away from everything.” The girl choked out.

 

“It’s alright, Wanda…just…do you know where we are?” asked the voice that belonged to the man.

 

“Iowa in an alternate universe in 2015.” came the girl’s very quick reply, almost as if she hadn’t even thought about it.

 

“Okay—um—wait—what?” asked the man.

 

“I don’t know how I know that.” The girl replied slowly. “I just do. It’s true, and there are no mutants in this world besides us.” There was a short pause. “I don’t know how I know that either, but I’m positive it’s true.”

 

“O-k-a-y…okay. One crisis at a time. We need to get Pietro somewhere he can recover.” said the man. Al heard the sound of movement, and figured most likely the individuals had risen to their feet.

 

At this point, Al had managed to sit up, and although he felt like he had recovered, he didn’t trust his head yet because he had to have mistaken what he was hearing. The conversation he’d just overheard made not a lick of sense.

 

Al’s eyes had adjusted enough to the dark now that he could distinguish the figures in the field. One was a young girl—he’d guess somewhere around 14 to 16 years old—with auburn hair and a silver jacket that stood out brightly in the night. Another was the young man his flashlight had landed on. Al noticed now that not only did the man have on some sort of shiny metal helmet, but he was also wearing what looked like body armor and cape of all things. There was also a third figure, who the man held in his arms bridal style. The figure was a young boy with silver hair and ghostly pale skin who was wearing indistinct gray clothes that reminded Al of hospital scrubs or a prison uniform, if it had been bright orange instead of gray.

 

The boy looked like he might be younger than the girl, but Al thought that maybe they were the same age. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the boy looked to be in dire straights. He was practically skin and bones and he had a black eye that stood out starkly against his pale skin. 

 

Just as Al lifted himself to his feet the young man seemed to remember that they weren’t alone. There was silence for a moment, as the man glanced toward where Al’s shotgun had somehow miraculously been flung, as well as shifting himself slightly in front of the girl.

 

“Let’s talk for a moment.” said Al in a voice that he hoped sounded strong and commanding as his eyes made contact with the mysterious man in the helmet and cape. He still had no idea how he and his gun had gone flying through the air, so he was going to be as cautious as possible when dealing with this situation. He’d never believed in aliens, and he still didn’t really but there was something definitely odd about these people. Right now though, all he saw were people that needed help.

 

“I just came out here because I saw some sort of blast, and I thought I better investigate. I brought my gun because I don’t take well to trespassing, and you’re on my land. But I don’t mean you any harm. It looks like someone already caused you enough trouble. I’d say that boy needs help, and you and the girl look pretty exhausted as well. The nearest hospital is about thirty minutes from here, but something tells me you folks won’t want to go to any hospital…. But my house is just down the road, and I’ve got a vehicle that can get us there in a quick minute.”

 

Al watched the man and waited for a reply, and as he did, the man glanced down at the boy in his arms and the girl by his side, and Al knew he was contemplating his choices. Al thought the man looked too young to be the kids’ father, but then again, everyone under 40 looked young to Al. And if the man wasn’t their father then based on the way the man was holding on tightly to the boy and standing protectively in front of the girl, then he was at least someone who cared for them an awful lot, and Al was positive he wasn’t the one who had injured the boy.

 

Tired of waiting for the man to respond, Al spoke up again. “Look, sonny, you can trust me or not, but the way I see it, you don’t have whole lot of other choice. I’m not going ask how you all got out here in the state that you’re in, and I don’t expect you to tell me right now. My mind can’t comprehend how my I landed on my ass with my gun twenty feet away without anyone laying a hand on me, but that’s not my concern right now. My concern, and I think yours too, is making sure those kids with you are okay.”

 

The man stared at him coldly, but he seemed to believe that Al was telling the truth and that he was right in saying they really didn’t have any other option. “Alright…we’d appreciate your help.”

 

“Well then…do you mind if I retrieve shotgun? I ain’t gonna try to shoot ya, but I don’t plan on leaving a perfectly good gun out here for anyone to find.”

 

“Go ahead.” replied the man, seeming not too concerned.

 

After retrieving his gun and flashlight, Al said “This way.” And he led the trio out through the cornfield toward his vehicle.

 

“This is it.” said Al motioning to the gator when they arrived back on the road. “Oh and that’s Copper.” he added, pointing at the dog who was sitting on his haunches in the gator’s passenger seat with his tail wagging happily right where Al had left him. Why don’t you sit in the tail-bed with the boy and—”

 

“No.” replied the man. “Wanda, setz dich nach hinten und pass auf deinen Bruder auf. Ich möchte vorne sitzen damit ich Old McDonald im Auge behalten kann.1.”

 

Al didn’t know what the man was saying, it sounded like he was maybe speaking German, but after the girl hopped in the back and he set the boy down gently beside her, it was clear that he wanted to be up front so he could keep an eye on the ‘threat.’

 

“Mind if Copper sits back here with you?” Al asked the girl, who responded with a head shake and then smiled slightly as the puppy curled up in her lap.

 

Al then took up the driver’s seat and once the mysterious man had taken the seat beside him, they were on their way.

 

They drove in silence for a bit, and Al kept an eye on the man in his peripheral vision. He could tell the young man was also watching him, as well as the kids in the back.

 

Feeling a need to fill the silence Al spoke up, “Name’s Al by the way. Al Walker.”

 

 The man beside him didn’t immediately respond, but then he glanced in his direction with an impassive stare, and replied. “Erik.”

 

Al waited to see if he’d elaborate but when he did not, Al prattled on, “Good name, and the young lady is Wanda, I’ve gathered. What’s the boy’s name?”

 

Once again Al wondered if the man, ‘Erik’ would reply, but after a brief pause he did.

 

“Pietro.”

 

“That’s a good name too. A strong name. I expect he’s a strong kid too. He’ll be alright.”

 

Erik remained silent, but Al thought he saw him nod his head slightly as if trying to make himself believe it too.

 

When they reached Al’s old but large white farmhouse house the man jumped out before Al had even brought the vehicle to a complete stop. His cape billowed out around him. On anyone else, Al would’ve said it looked ridiculous, but the man somehow made it seem imposing.

 

By the time Al had risen from his seat, the man had swept the boy back into his arms, and was staring at Al expectantly.

 

“Right then. This way.” said Al gathering Copper up in his arms, and leading the group up the worn wooden porch and into the foyer. Under the given circumstances, he decided it be easier just to let the dog stay in the house for the night. Setting Copper down, in the entry way, where he then took off probably to go curl up on the sofa, Al spoke again, “You can lay Pietro down in one of the bedrooms upstairs.” said Al leading the way. “Hope you don’t mind carrying him up the stairs. I’d offer to put him in my room on the main floor, but the ones upstairs have better mattresses and trust me, they’re a lot cleaner, since they’ve been empty for sometime.”

 

In fact, the last person to occupy the room closest to the staircase had been his own son, before he went off and joined the military, and then to a new war—it seemed America was never in short supply of those—and then…he never came back.

 

“There are first aid supplies and towels in the bathroom. You’re going to have to set that foot too. I have some medical training from the army, so I can help you if you need it, and I’ve got an emergency IV, so I’ll go grab that and get him some water and start some soup. It looks like that boy could use a few hamburgers, but I doubt his stomach could take it right now.” said Al exiting the bedroom and wondering what exactly he had got himself into.

* * *

 

ERIK POV

 

Erik set Pietro down carefully on the bed, and Wanda crawled up on the other side next to him. Wasting no time, and grateful that he could finally do something, Erik went into the bathroom and after searching around for a bit, retrieved the first aid kit, wet a washcloth with warm water, and grabbed a dry towel, before returning to the bedroom.

 

Wanda was staring at Pietro when he returned, but her eyes were dry. They were no longer filled completely with despair. Instead Erik could see the anger in his daughter’s eyes. Thankfully, her eyes were their normal dark brown, and not the red that was brought on by her powers.

 

“I wish we’d stayed there, just so I could kill them all. Look what they did to him! If we’d gotten there any later than we did, he probably would have already wasted away!” said Wanda in anger.

 

Erik completely understood what his daughter was feeling, and he wanted to annihilate anyone that had anything to do with the suffering his son had endured too, but he didn’t want his daughter to become the monster that he already was, so a part of him was glad that she had inadvertently ripped them from that universe.

 

“There’s nothing we can do about that right now, Wanda. One day, _I_ will take care of them, but right now, we need to take care of your brother.” said Erik, wiping the blood, sweat, and grime from Pietro’s forehead with the washcloth.

 

“You’re right…I know you’re right. I’m just so angry…and…and…I should’ve protected him. I thought I was protecting him by leaving home, but I wasn’t there when they came. I should’ve been there…he’s my little brother…I’m supposed to look out for him…” said Wanda. Her voice trailing off as she took in all of Pietro’s injuries.

 

“Don’t talk like that, Wanda. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. You’re twins, and you’re both kids.” Thinking back to what seemed like ages ago when he’d overheard the conversation Marya had with Pietro in their house in the suburbs of D.C., Erik continued. “It’s your job to be a kid. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my own. I should have been there to stop them from taking Pietro. I should have been there to help you two understand your abilities. I should have always been there…” replied Erik as he put a butterfly Band-Aid on the cut overlaying the bruising around Pietro’s eye.

 

Erik could tell Wanda was about to respond, but just then, the farmer, _Al—_ Erik reminded himself—returned with a pitcher of water, a glass, and an IV.

 

“Sit him up and see if you can get him to drink any water, and I brought painkillers, but you better wait until he’s got some food in him before you give him any.” Said Al. “I’ll get his IV started if you’ll let me?”

 

“Yes…thank you.” Replied Erik as he gently lifted Pietro up, supporting his neck and head as Wanda straightened the pillows behind him. Then, Erik gently prodded Pietro as he lifted the glass of water to his lips.

 

“Pietro, wach auf mein Sohn.2 You need to get some fluids in you.”

 

Fortunately, Pietro opened his eyes, as well as he could manage, especially since his left one was swollen, and he proceeded to drink the entire glass of water.

 

“Good job, Pietro. Sehr gut.3” Said Erik helping Pietro lie back against the bed again.

 

“Alright.” said Al. “This isn’t going to be pleasant, but we really need to do something about that leg. Hopefully, he’ll stay out of it, but you better hold him down just in case while I get his foot back in alignment. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

 

“Ready?” asked Al kneeling down by Pietro’s leg at the foot of the bed. Erik looked over at Wanda, who was holding Pietro’s hand, and then down at Pietro, whose eyes were closed once again. He hated causing his son any more pain, but he knew they had to get his leg straightened out, or his boy might never be able to run again, and Erik might never get to witness the pure joy on his son’s face he got from using his power. But more importantly, he knew Pietro would be devastated if he was never able to run again, and he didn’t know if his son would be able to live with that loss, and he couldn’t lose his boy, not again.

 

“Just do it.” said Erik.

 

“Okay.” Replied Al. “1…2…” and on 3 Al quickly popped the joints back in place, causing Pietro to wake up with a jerk and scream abruptly, but Erik held him steady, as he and Wanda began issuing soothing reassurances, but there was no need. Pietro had passed out again from the pain.

 

“I’m sorry he had to go through that, but it should heal alright now.” Said Al as he wrapped Pietro’s ankle and put a make shift brace on it. “I’ll go check on the soup. It should be about done.”

 

Erik looked back at his children after Al had left. He was about to ask Wanda if she might rather go lay down in another bedroom because wrenching people from one universe to another had to be exhausting, not to mention he he’d have to take off Pietro’s shirt to examine the extent of his injuries, and he had a feeling it was not going to be pleasant. He didn’t want Wanda to have to witness that. He was saved from an argument though, because Wanda had already passed out from fatigue next to Pietro.

 

That matter settled, Erik retrieved the scissors from the first aid kit, and was about to cut off the dirty grey t-shirt Pietro was wearing, when he noticed Pietro’s arms. On his right arm was the word mutant with the number 713 beneath it. Erik refused to let himself feel anything as he ran his thumb over the ink, wishing he could erase the writing and with it all the pain Pietro had suffered. Looking at Pietro’s left arm he couldn’t completely contain the anger that boiled up inside of him, and the metal lamp next to the bed suffered the consequences.

 

_They branded him! Like he was no better than a piece of cattle! I’m sorry Pietro. I’m so sorry..._

Erik dragged a hand across his eyes, wiping away the tears that had started to gather. Then he took a deep breath, and steeled himself before taking the scissors and cutting threw Pietro’s worn shirt.

 

The damage was worse than he imagined.

 

Scars littered Pietro’s pale chest. The most recent ones were intricate and precise, inflicted by a professional, someone who had study the physiology of a human body and knew where to cut to keep an individual alive while gaining knowledge of that person’s anatomy. But there were other scars too. Ones that were much older, more sporadic and had long since healed.

 

It took a moment before Erik comprehended why Pietro had the older scars, but then he remembered.

 

_Bryan._

 

The twins’ step-father or step-uncle. Erik had selfishly let himself forget that Pietro’s duration in captivity wasn’t the first time the boy had known cruelty and pain.

 

There was one older array of scars that was worse than all of the others. It took a moment for Erik to comprehend what he was seeing and when he did, it took him a moment longer to believe that it was real, that someone could have been so cruel to do such a thing to his son. But there was no denying it. It was real, and it filled Erik with white-hot rage.

 

The scars formed a jagged script right over Pietro’s heart. Written in all caps with the letters backward, was the sentence I AM NOTHING.

 

Unable to force his anger down, but still somewhat aware that he did not want to wake his children, Erik reached out with his power to an old rusted frame of a tractor that he had noticed upon entering the farmhouse, and he flung it up into the air and out into the vacant cornfield. When it landed, he still heard a thud, but Wanda and Pietro remained unaffected in their slumber.

 

In that moment he wished more than ever that Wanda had not killed Bryan, just so he could stab him in the chest himself and watch the man that had hurt his only son bleed out slowly before his own eyes.

 

What hurt Erik the most was the fact that his children’s asshole of a stepfather not only had mutilated his son’s body, but he had done it in a way that had and would likely continue to psychology torment Pietro throughout his life. Because Erik had realized why the man—no the monster—had carved the letters backward into Pietro’s chest. He had deliberately written it that way so that anytime Pietro was shirtless and looked in the mirror, he’d be able to clearly see in the mirror reflecting back to him the words I AM NOTHING. A completely false but no less painful reminder that in Bryan’s eyes, Pietro was worthless and his life was insignificant.

 

_That bastard didn’t even write that I am a freak or an abomination. No, he wrote I am nothing, so he could slowly convince my son that he was worthless._

 

Filled with despair, Erik brushed Pietro’s hair out of his eyes, noticing as he did so that his forehead felt a little hot.

 

_I should keep an eye on his temperature. Make sure if he has a fever it doesn’t get too high. At least I can do that much for him._

Once again pushing his personally feelings away, Erik set to work cleaning and bandaging the cuts on Pietro’s body that were still healing. Just as he finished, a shiver racked through Pietro’s battered body and Erik felt the boy’s forehead once more. Deciding Pietro was cool enough to cover up, Erik grabbed one of the blankets that had been at the end of the bed and lifted it up to the top of the boy’s chest. Then he tossed another blanket gently over Wanda. 

 

* * *

 

AL POV

 

Al was just gathering bowls and spoons, and placing them along with the soup on a tray while absentmindedly looking out one of the kitchen windows into the night, thinking about his unexpected guests upstairs, when he saw an old tractor frame out in the yard, lifted into the air seemingly of its own accord and thrown out into the night, landing with a dull thud. He had been trying to decide whether to trash the tractor or restore it, but apparently that decision had now been made for him.

 

“Holy mother of—” Al said quietly, letting his voice trail off. He had just witnessed another unexplainable event that night, and he had no doubt it had something to do with the people currently in his home. Part of Al was frightened by that fact, but Al’s years on this earth had taught him that life was unpredictable, and Al was nothing if not adaptable.

 

Besides, Al had a feeling that the worn-down family upstairs had faced somewhat of a war of their own before ending up on his doorstep, and that was something Al could certainly relate too.

With one last glance out the window at where the old tractor had once stood, Al traipsed up the old wooden staircase, before entering the room where he had left his three guests.

 

The first thing Al noticed was that the boy and girl were apparently asleep, looking more peaceful than Al had yet to see them. Then Al’s gaze went to the man who was with them. He had removed his helmet and was sitting on an old desk chair that had been in the room, with his head in his hands.

 

“Err—” Al cleared his throat, causing the man to look up. “I brought soup. There’s plenty of it, so help yourself to some too.”

 

“Thank you.” said the ma—Erik—Al reminded himself. But Erik made no move to help himself.

 

“Sooo…” said Al leaning against the door frame after having set the tray on the bedside table. “Are they yours?” he asked, inclining his head toward the children on the bed.

 

“Yes, they’re my children.” replied Erik, and then after a moment’s hesitation, “but I’m not much of a father.”

 

“I thought they might be. They look a bit like you…well I can’t say I’m the best judge of what constitutes as a good father, as I was never much of a father myself. My wife was always the better parent. She always knew what to do and say, but it seems you got them out a not-so-good situation and you’re looking after them now, so that counts for something.” said Al.

 

Still grim faced, Erik didn’t answer, but Al hadn’t really expected him to. “I’ll bring you and the kids some new clothes, yours look a little worse for wear and slightly…uh ostentatious. I’ve got a few of my daughter’s old clothes that should fit your daughter alright. They’re a little out of style, since it’s been a while since my daughter was a teenager, but hopefully they’ll suffice. My son’s clothes should fit you fine too, though your boy will be swimming in them, since I got rid of my son’s childhood clothes long ago. But I reckon anything is better than that…garb he’s wearing now.”

 

Turning to go Al was stopped by Erik’s voice, “Do you have a thermometer?”

 

“Was there not one in the first aid kit? Well, I’ve got another downstairs that I’ll bring up. That’s a good idea, last thing you want is for the kid to get sicker than he already is. Best try to wake him up to get some food in him too.” replied Al.

 

“Thank you.” said Erik once more as Al turned again to leave before pausing a final time.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with one of my old tractors flying through the night, would you?” asked Al glancing down at the mangled remains of a lamp that had been sitting next to the bed.

 

There was a pause, before Erik replied a little defensively, “perhaps.”

 

“Okay…” said Al. “Relax sonny. I ain’t gonna try to shoot you or anything, not that I’d imagine I’d be able to if current events have taught me anything, but like I said, my concern is those kids and it looks like you all could use a bit of help. Besides, it was old and you saved me the trouble of deciding if I wanted to restore it….but I’d rather not leave it in the middle of my field, will you…uh…be able to get it out of there?”

 

“Yes.” Replied Erik “I’ll move it once Wanda and Pietro are well rested.”

 

“Well then. No harm done…I’ll be back with those clothes; then holler if you need anything.” said Al as he finally left the room. He still didn’t know what to think of his unexpected visitors. The man could evidently move things with his mind, and being that Wanda and Pietro were his kids, Al figured they likely were a bit…different too. But although Al was still uncertain as to how to interact with them, and if they were aliens or whatever, but Al knew one thing for certain: They were suffering, and they needed help. And as a veteran, he was going to do all in his power to help them.

 

* * *

 

1: Wanda, sit back there and look after your brother. I want to sit up front so I can keep watch on Old McDonald

 

2: wake up just for a bit, my son

 

3: Very good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again if the first aid practices sound totally fake. I’ve never even taken anatomy! I really put Pietro through the wringer in this chapter…yikes. Let me know if anyone has any questions or thoughts they want to share. I appreciate the reviews and your input. Does anyone desperately want Erik, Pietro, and Wanda back in their own universe, or are you interested in seeing what’s in store for them in our own world? Thanks for following the story!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for those who left reviews. Here’s the next chapter. Please enjoy, and feel free to share any thoughts you have!

WANDA POV

 

It had been two weeks since Wanda had hurled her family out of their own universe. Two weeks since she’d gotten her brother back, or what was left of him, for the boy she, Erik, and the others had “saved” from the hell that was that government facility, wasn’t the same boy she had left at their home in D.C. over a year ago.

 

The first couple of days after their rescue mention, Pietro hadn’t done much more than sleep. He was only conscious when Erik felt it necessary to wake him up in order to get some sustenance in him and help him to the bathroom. It was fortunate then that in his short-lived moments of consciousness, Pietro was eating whatever they put in front of him, at least with their help. He seemed only to be consuming what they served him more out of habit than actual cognizance of what he was doing.

 

Neither of Erik nor Wanda had expected Pietro to be completely fine, especially with Wanda’s insight from her latest use of Cerebo, but she expected…something. Nothing could have prepared her for the emptiness in Pietro’s eyes, and despite hers and Erik’s and even on occasion Al’s—though he respected their privacy—persistent attempts to coax some sort of dialogue out of Pietro, he had remained silent.

 

She felt like she had tried everything to get Pietro to talk. She’d reassured him he was safe. She talked to him about all of the music he liked, and tried to get him to reprimand her for her lack of knowledge. She shared stupid jokes their old math teacher used to tell that in school would make them both cringe. Heck, she’d even droned on about the weather, which in Iowa even though it was toward the end of the summer was apparently still freaking hot.

 

But nothing had worked. In the rare moments when Pietro would even make eye contact, he would just stare at her, or more accurately, stare through her, as Wanda wasn’t sure he was even seeing her.

 

His silence was….disconcerting to say the least. The visible bruises, brand, broken bones, and scars were awful, and sometimes she felt—and she was positive that it wasn’t just her imagination—the physical pain along with Pietro, but she didn’t mind. She’d take all of his pain if she could.

 

But despite all of those corporeal injuries, Wanda had accepted them and she could handle them, even though, despite her protests that she could help, Erik never let her see the full extent of Pietro’s injuries when he changed his bandages, she knew Pietro could too.

 

She knew Pietro could handle pain. Their step-uncle had made sure of that when he, what felt like a lifetime ago, had made it his mission to make Pietro’s life a living hell, that is until they’d finally escaped his reach and Wanda had ultimately destroyed him. All of that she could handle. What she couldn’t handle was the silence.

 

Even in the midst of his worst times in childhood and before he’d developed his powers, Pietro had always been a chatterbox, while Wanda had been the more reserved and reclusive twin. Though the topics changed throughout the years, Pietro could go on and on about at about a million miles per minute about anything and everything: _“Wanda! Why do they call tulips two-lips? They don’t even have one lip? I don’t get it. Wanda! Did you know that hummingbirds’ wings beat up to 80 times per second? That’s actually pretty fast for a little guy. I respect that. Wanda! Why is the sky blue? Do you think it’s sad? Wanda! Did you know that Mark Twain’s real name is Samuel Langhorne Clemens? Wanda! Do you think if I ran fast enough I could make it across the ocean? Then I’d practically be Jesus! On second thought, maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea. I mean Jesus could calm the waves, but I’d probably just crash right into them. Wanda! Did you know the song ‘American Pie’ is about Buddy Holly? Depressing, am I right? Wanda! How mad do you think mom would react if I stole an arcade machine? I mean if I could get away with stealing it in the first place, she actually might be pretty impressed. Don’t ya think? I guess maybe not. Wanda! Do you think our dad was an alien? Wanda!...”_

At times it used to drive her insane, but now she regrets every time she told him to shut up because she was one of the only people that could actually understand him when he spoke so fast, or maybe she only understood him because when he talked to her, he actually cared enough to make an effort to speak slow enough to be understood. 

 

She just hated it. She hated what those psychos had done to Pietro. She hated that she didn’t know what to do to help him. She hated that despite the fact that her brother was right in front of her, she still messed him, and for that, she hated herself. She was careful to never let her brother see that hate though. In his current state, Wanda feared that he would wrongly assume that hatred was directed at him. That is, if he noticed it at all. 

 

At least she wasn’t alone in her hatred of the whole situation. She could tell that it was eating her father up inside too. Her father…out loud, she still called him Erik, but in her own head, sometimes she found she didn’t mind thinking of him that way. But Erik had had no more luck than her in getting Pietro to open up. 

 

This shared struggle didn’t mean she was able to completely keep all of that anger and hate inside of her though. After one particular, depressing failure of trying to get Pietro to say anything at all, she’d not had been able to contain her emotions. She had recounted to Pietro the memory of shortly after they’d developed their powers, when as a coping mechanism they had dubbed themselves Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch because at 11 years old, those names seemed pretty dope. She was positive it would make him start ranting in defense of their chosen names, or at least crack a smile. But he remained as impassive as ever.

 

That’s when she had walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs as calmly as possible to not disturb Pietro, before finally letting out a brief scream in frustration in what she thought was the empty kitchen. In her anger, of course her powers had flared up and red energy had shattered a couple of coffee mugs on the kitchen counter and had probably showed in her eyes as well. She felt a little better after her outburst but when she looked up, she noticed Al had been standing in the opposite entry way of the kitchen the entire time.

 

He looked like he was in shock for a moment, but then he just seemed to accept it before telling her not to worry about the mugs. They were old anyway, and she had just saved him from having to clean them.

 

Al was great that way, taking everything in stride and not questioning the how, not even when it was clear that even though psychologically Pietro wasn’t getting much better, physically his leg and other wounds were healing far more rapidly than should be possible for a normal human being. Al even managed to get Pietro some crutches, though her brother had barely used them except when she or Erik gently forced him to get out of bed and walk around a bit for exercise, at a normal pace that is, or come downstairs to eat with him. Whether because he didn’t want to or couldn’t manage it, Pietro had yet to burst into super speed, though he did seem to shiver at an alarming rate or turn his head abruptly at loud noises on occasion. 

 

Overall, for the very brief duration of their stay thus far, Al had been as welcoming as anyone who liked to give the appearance of being a grumpy old man could be. Since, it wasn’t clear to anyone how long they would be in this alternate dimension, he had told his hired farm hands that Erik was his nephew, and he and his kids—who were home schooled, as the local school year had already begun—were staying with him for awhile, while his son recovered from a life threatening illness.

 

Erik and Wanda hadn’t really discussed the fact that they were in an alternate dimension, not too mention in 2015, beyond their brief conversation when Wanda had first pulled them all there. Despite the atrocities that had happened to her brother back in their own universe, Wanda really did want to return to their world. The one they were currently in just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the feeling of aloneness, knowing that there were no other mutants out there besides Erik and Pietro, but whatever the case may be, she knew Erik likely felt the same way, though he had not brought it up, nor hinted in anyway for her to take them back.

 

Honestly, Wanda didn’t even know if she could get them back, and that scared her a little, but she had brought them here, so she reasoned she had the power to take them back somewhere inside of her. She would get them all home soon. Once Pietro had recovered a little more… physically at least. She just hoped that was what her brother wanted, to go home. Even after all he had been through, Wanda felt in her heart that if Pietro were in his right mind, he’d still want to go home…back to Mila…back to where their mother,…and more recently their aunt had died.

 

But for now they would get by in this strange world. Surprisingly, disregarding Pietro’s current predicament, Erik was handling their stay with the famer, who was essentially a stranger to them, fairly well. He had even taken to helping out with chores around the farm because Erik was the type of person who would never accept charity from anyone, no matter how dire the circumstances. But like Wanda, Erik’s top priority was Pietro, and neither of them left him alone for more than a minute.

 

In fact, even though there were enough bedrooms in the house for all of them, Erik and Wanda traded off sleeping on an air mattress on the floor in Pietro’s bedroom and sleeping in the bedroom just across the hall. Wanda hadn’t even wanted to be that far from Pietro every other night. She didn’t care if she had to sleep on the bare floor boards, but Erik had insisted that she needed to rest too. Wanda had used the same argument against him, and the result was the aforementioned compromise.

 

So one night she would sleep across the hall from her brother, or more accurately lie awake for hours wondering why people were so cruel before finally falling asleep, and the next night she would lie awake on the floor next to her brother’s bed listening or unsuccessfully trying to quell her brother’s night terrors, wondering with all the more ferocity why people were so cruel.

* * *

 

ERIK POV

Erik was tired of feeling helpless. Tired of watching his son suffer and not being able to do anything to help him. Erik was just…tired.

 

Yes, Pietro’s physical wounds were healing, and Erik was becoming more confident that with time his son would be able to run just as fast as ever, maybe even within another week or so at the rate his recovery was going. But Erik knew Pietro carried wounds that he couldn’t see, and Erik wished he could carry them for him, even though God knows he already carried a fair amount of his own.

 

Erik had let—No—he made himself forget long ago, what it was like to be a father. He had had to, after Anya’s death, or he wouldn’t have made it. But over the past few months, while getting to know Wanda and painstakingly searching for Pietro, he had begun to remember what it was like to be a father: to want to give your kids the whole world, yet shield them from all of its horrors.

 

But just as with Anya, he had failed again. Failed to protect his child. But this time, he wasn’t going to walk away. Even though he didn’t know how to help Pietro, he would never stop trying, which is why he was currently lying on his back on the air mattress next to Pietro’s bed staring at crack in the old ceiling above him, listening for the inevitable noise of his son’s muffled screams from whatever demons plagued him that night.

 

And so that had been his routine for the past couple of weeks, except for the nights when Wanda’s stubbornness had forced him across the hall. Though they both always shut the bedroom door of Pietro’s room in attempt to prevent the sounds of Pietro’s screams from carrying downstairs and awakening the old farmer, Erik would keep his door open, so he would hear Wanda or Pietro in the unlikely event that they explicitly called for him. But he also left his door open on the nights he was supposed to be resting, so that he would hear each one of Pietro’s cries, and they would be a constant reminder to him that he had to do everything in his power to prevent those horrors from happening again.

 

Erik was suddenly jolted from his thoughts as Pietro let out a piercing scream. Erik bolted upright and started to stand, intending to attempt to wake up Pietro while avoiding his flailing limbs.

 

Just as Erik got to his feet, a blur that was Pietro zipped by him and crashed into the room’s back wall. Once Erik recovered from the momentary shock of Pietro’s use of super speed—which had yet to happen amid Pietro’s night terrors or while he was awake—Erik turned to look at Pietro who was sitting on the wooden floor with his back and hands spread against the wall visibly still very afraid of whatever he saw in his nightmares, but Pietro’s eyes were now open, so at least in some sense the boy was now awake.

 

Erik slowly started to approach Pietro with his arms out, palms facing Pietro, trying to appear nonthreatening, because during the minutes when Pietro woke from his night terrors he was always very jumpy.

 

“Pietro…” said Erik. His voice a little more than a whisper. Getting no response, adverse or otherwise, Erik cautiously continued to approach his son before kneeling down before him. Erik glanced first at Pietro’s leg, making sure it was still securely wrapped in its brace despite traveling at super speed. Satisfied, Erik looked back at his son’s face, which was even paler than normal and much gaunter than Erik would have liked. Although the last two weeks had helped him gain back some of the weight he had lost, Pietro was still extremely thin, which was saying something since he had already been a slim kid before the facility.

 

“Pietro.” Erik repeated watching in despair as rapid shivers coursed through his son’s body and his eyes darted around, tracking unseen threats. Taking a risk, as he knew physical contact could likely cause Pietro to panic more, Erik gently placed one of his hands on the back of Pietro’s neck.

                                                                                         

“Pietro, bitte mein Sohn. Was auch immer du siehst, es ist nicht wirklich. Hör mir zu.1

It. Is. Not. Real.” Erik pleaded with Pietro, desperately trying to break through the hold that that place had left on him, and to his utter surprise, after a moment, Pietro’s shivers stopped, and he looked directly at his father.

 

“No.” said Pietro in a clear steady voice. “It. Was. Real. AllOfIt. It happened. Mom’s death happened. My perverted sicko step-uncle happened. Aunt Marya’s murder happened. That _place_ happened. It all happened, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And it’s still happening, in my head. Every time I close my eyes, it will always be there, and—andI’llAlwaysBeDamaged.” Pietro finished, his words rushing together at the end while his hands came away from their death grip on the wall to cover his face as he broke into a sob.

 

Erik was in shock from Pietro’s sudden unexpected vocalness and tears. The last time he had heard Pietro’s voice had been back at the facility when the boy had called out for his father in fear. Throughout the entire past two weeks Pietro had not uttered a single word nor had he shed a tear. He had just…existed in a state empty of emotion, except when he was caught up in his nightmares, so when Pietro finally spoke and showed any emotion at all, Erik was so surprised and happy that it took him a moment to actually comprehend what his son had said. When he did, that happiness faded quickly.

 

“Oh Pietro.” Said Erik over Pietro’s silent choking sobs. “You’re right. It did all happen, and I’m sorry because I should’ve stopped it. I should have stopped all of it. But your wrong about that last bit. You’re not damaged. Do you hear me? Pietro look at me.” Erik gently grabbed both of Pietro’s arms and lowered them away from the boy’s face before putting his own hands on each side of his son’s facing, gently forcing Pietro to look at him.

 

“You. Are. Not. Damaged. They are the damaged ones. Those people—if you can even call them that—who would take a child from his home and his family and torture him to no end, they are the ones that have something broken inside them. They are the lesser beings. You, my son,  
du bist ein Wunder.2”

 

As Erik finished, Pietro’s sobs reduced to small sniffles, and he lowered his hands then went and sat down beside Pietro against the wall, hesitating only a heartbeat before putting an arm around the boy.

 

Pietro leaned back, putting his head against Erik’s shoulder before saying, “I don’t feel very wonderful. I just feel…I don’t know. I just wish I couldn’t feel anything at all…”

 

“Pietro.” Began Erik. “I can’t make what happened to you go away. I wish more than anything that I could, but I can’t. And I know it doesn’t change what happened to you, but I met a monster among men in my young life too. Who made me…do things and become someone I didn’t like. For awhile, your mother and Anya helped me escaped the memories of that person and calm my mind, but after your sister died, I didn’t let myself feel the loss. I only let myself feel the anger, so that person I didn’t like came back…You have to let yourself feel it Pietro. Feel the losses, the pain, everything. That’s the only way you can move on, but you don’t have to do it alone. God knows if I hadn’t found out about you and your sister…well let’s just say I wouldn’t want you are Wanda around the type of person I used to be.”

 

Pietro gave one more sniffle and then wiped his eyes with one hand. “It’s just not fair.” said Pietro leaning his head back against Erik again.

 

“I know, Pietro. I’m sorry.” said Erik resting his chin on his son’s head and pulling the boy closer. A few minutes passed and Erik thought Pietro had perhaps fallen back to sleep, and he was just considering carrying the boy back to the bed when Pietro said and a quiet sleepy whisper, “Erik?”

 

 “Yes, mein Sohn?3” replied Erik. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Erik smiled sadly to himself. “You don’t need to thank me, Pietro. I only wish I had gotten there sooner, or better yet, stopped it from happening in the first place, but you have my word, Pietro. I will always come when you need me…Try to sleep now, Pietro. You need to rest.” Even as he was finishing speaking, Erik felt Pietro’s head began to nod forward as he drifted into sleep, but not before he heard a small voice say, “Gute nacht, Vati.4”   Erik felt a rush of love for his son run through him. It had been a long time since anyone had called Erik Vati. Sure, Pietro had called him dad back at the facility, but that wasn’t quite the same. To be called dad in his native tongue reminded Erik that despite how much worry and anxiety it caused him, just how much he missed being a father. And in that moment he wondered how he could have ever forgotten. 

* * *

 

1: Pietro, please my son. Whatever you are seeing, it isn’t real. Listening to me.

2: You are a wonder.

3: my son

4: Good night, dad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might’ve noticed that some of the dialogue in this chapter is inspired by Supernatural, The Walking Dead, and 11/22/63, so can’t take credit for those lines, and props to those shows for being awesome. If I wanted to be cruel, I feel like this chapter could almost act as an ending to this story because the last line ties in the title nicely, but don’t worry it doesn’t end here! Much more to come :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Rich Text was being weird so I couldn't get it to italicize, but the phrases in parenthesis are what I would've liked to be italicized as those phrases are the characters' explicit thoughts.

AL POV

It had been strange these past two weeks, sharing his home with other people again, but maybe that’s just because the people he had been sharing his home with were a little…strange.   
Nevertheless, he had been enjoying the company, but there had been times, mostly in the morning when he wasn’t quite awake yet, where he had to remind himself that the young man coming down the stairs in the early hours of the day to help out on the farm wasn’t his son. 

And whenever that realization fully formed in his mind, he felt a twinge of sadness, but the young man currently residing in his home was a father too, who it seemed had also lost his son, though fortunately, unlike Al, he had not lost him forever. Upon further discussion with his daughter, Wanda, when he’d ask if she and Pietro had other siblings, she had mentioned a younger cousin who was like a sister and an older sister whom she and her brother never met. 

The way Wanda talked about their older sister, it was clear to Al that the reason she and Pietro hadn’t met her was because she had died. Al didn’t press for details or inquire the circumstances of their sister’s death, but it didn’t matter. Either way, Al discovered that Erik had known the loss of a child, so in a way, he felt the two of them understood something about the world that others did not.

Even though Al barely knew the kid, Al was glad the boy was recovering, but he could tell that psychologically, Pietro still had a long way to go. He had been around enough soldiers with PTSD, and he himself had struggled with it, to know that boy had been through something that wasn’t just going to go away. He just hoped that Wanda and Erik would be able to help the kid get back to the here and now, because Al, who had never quite gotten over his own experience with war, certainly wasn’t equipped to be a therapist.

Even so, he’d tried to help out the worn down family the best he could. He’d given Wanda some books to share with her brother, thinking maybe they’d offer the boy an escape. She’d seem genuinely grateful, and he’d heard her reading out loud to Pietro on occasion, but he never heard the boy comment, chuckle, or give any response at all.

Just like her father, Wanda seemed completely focused on her brother practically 24/7, but hoping she’d maybe take some time for herself to unwind, Al had also told the her that she could use his laptop to surf the internet, watch Netflix, or whatever else the kids do these days, but she had just given him a blank look like she had no idea what he was talking about before kindly replying, ‘thank you but the books will be fine.’

The lack of knowledge of technology and current references—even less so than Al’s 65 year old self—not to mention the incident with the flying tractor frame and the couple of coffee mugs getting obliterated with red energy, all supported Al’s theory that his house guests were aliens. 

Frankly, Al found himself feeling a tad idiotic to have been so closed minded before to never really entertain the idea that there were other beings out there besides humans, but whatever the case may be and wherever these people came from, Al felt a connection to them in a way he didn’t think he would ever have with people again since his wife had passed, his son had been killed in action, and his daughter had moved half-way across the country. 

Al’s lip twitched into a hint of a smile as he set out some plates on the kitchen table. It was nice to be setting a place for four, rather than one. Al went to retrieved the sizzling bacon he had been cooking from the stove top. It was a Sunday morning, but despite the early hour, Al wasn’t the only one awake. His house guests seemed to be early risers too, well…that is, except for Pietro who never really seemed to want to get up or out of his bedroom, unless Wanda or Erik gently forced him to move and join them for meals and such. 

Erik was outside fixing a portion of the fence Al had around his horses but as Al flipped some pancakes, he heard the back door open, presumably by Erik who had likely finished his task and decided to come back inside the house. At the same time, Wanda entered the kitchen.

“Perfect timing. I’m just finishing breakfast.” said Al handing a plate to Wanda. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you, but Erik, will you help me get Pietro downstairs? I know it’s not that late, but I think it’s better if we wake him up. He barely got out of bed yesterday. I don’t think all that sleep is good for him, and he seems to do be a bit better if we get him up and moving earlier in the day.”

Erik. That was another thing Al noticed. Wanda never called her father dad or father for that matter.

“Yes. I agree. Just let me wash my hands first.” said Erik as he headed to the sink. “I’m glad you’re up already too, I wanted to tell you, last night Pietro actually said—” 

Erik stopped speaking and Al looked up from what he was doing as he heard a plate crash to the ground. Turning his eyes to the source of the noise, he saw that Wanda had dropped her plate. Following her gaze, Al noticed that she wasn’t looking at the ground. Her eyes were focused on the kitchen entry way, where Pietro stood leaning on his crutches. 

“H—h—hi sis.” said Pietro rapidly, but still fumbling over the words a little. 

Wanda was motionless for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes before she stepped over the forgotten broken ceramic plate and threw her arms around her brother, who awkwardly patted her on the back as best he could while leaning on his crutches.

Al was surprised Pietro didn’t tense up at the sudden physical contact because the boy had been extremely jumpy the past weeks whenever anyone touched him. It was almost like for Pietro Wanda’s rapid movement wasn’t so quick to him, but Al just wrote it off to the fact that for the first time, the kid actually seemed aware of what was happening around him rather than being trapped in his own head. 

After about a minute, Wanda, smiling with unshed tears in her eyes, finally pulled away from Pietro, but kept a grip of his shoulders between her arms. “I missed you, Pietro. I missed you so much.”

Shrugging with a small smile on his face, Pietro responded, “Yea…well what can I say? Guess I just have that affect on people.”

Al watched as Wanda just smiled in return with watery eyes, even Erik did not look completely unaffected by the exchange as he stood a little ways away from his children, appearing in Al’s mind as if he did not feel worthy of sharing the same joy Wanda had at seeing Pietro alert and up and about, but his eyes shown with pride and love for his children all the same. 

“How are you doing? Did you sleep better? Is your leg causing you much pain?” Wanda asked her brother at a rate that—had Al known what Pietro’s normal demeanor was—he would’ve said she’d given him a run for his money in terms of vocal speed.

“Easy Wanda.” Said Erik. “Don’t overwhelm him with questions. Why don’t you both come sit down and get something to eat. Okay?” 

The teenagers both nodded, and went to sit down at the table where they helped themselves to the food Al had prepared. Throughout breakfast, Wanda, Erik, and Al kept the conversation lighthearted trying not to overwhelm Pietro. They discussed the current book—Harry Potter—Wanda had started reading that morning, which she thought Pietro would enjoy, along with other activities Erik had helped with on the farm. The boy was still fairly quite, mostly nodding or shaking his head when appropriate, and we he did speak it was in quick short fragments. But it was more progress than Al would’ve thought possible just earlier that morning.

As Al cleared the table after they finished eating, Wanda spoke up, “So would you like to do something today, Pietro?” 

Pietro looked down at his left arm, his gaze locking on a tattoo there that Al noticed read mutant and had the number 713 etched below it. The tattoo reminded Al of how the Nazi’s marked those in prison camps back in World War II. He’d also observed that Erik had a similar tattoo even more reminiscent of the Nazi regime, and Al wondered what the stories behind those tattoos were. Whatever the tale, Al was sure it wasn’t a happy one.

“What is Pietro? What do you want to do?” asked Wanda hopefully.

Looking up, Pietro answered, “I—I want to go home.”

“You—you do?” asked Wanda.

“Pietro, are you sure that’s what you want?” asked Erik. “You don’t have to pretend you want to go back just because you think Wanda and I want to. We could stay here. Well maybe not here…we may be reaching the limit of Al’s hospitality, but we could find some place. Start fresh.” 

Before Pietro could answer, Al jumped in, “Hey, you all can stay here as long as you need to or want to. Honestly, I appreciate the company.”

“Thank you, Al.” said Erik. “Pietro, really you don’t—”

“I want to go back.” Said Pietro. “I do. I want to see Mila again and Alex, and I have to find out if Alex’s brother is okay. I—I am scared…of going back there, but I want to stop those people and make sure other mutants never have to go through what I did. I can’t hide here…not forever. I’ll have to go back eventually. IHaveToGoBack.IHaveTo.It’sTheRightThingToDo.” Pietro finished taking a deep breath in to calm himself.

Though Al had been a bit thrown at the speed at which Pietro had spoken, he could still tell the boy didn’t like discussing this. He looked worn out from being so vocal and as though he wanted to retreat back inside himself. 

“Okay, Pietro. It’s okay. If that’s what you want, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re going to rest, perhaps go to Charles’ school. This is not yet your fight. You still have a lot of growing up to do, and you’re going to enjoy it. Maybe when you’re older, things will be different, but right now, you’re going to have to let others help you. Alright?” finished Erik.

Pietro sort of half nodded half shrugged. Al didn’t exactly follow everything the kid was saying, but he followed it enough to be grateful that he didn’t have to parent the two teenagers in his home. Not that he thought they were bad kids. Quite the opposite actually, as strange as they may be, he just had a feeling that in the coming years their father would have a difficult time stopping them from growing up as fast as they might want, especially with whatever had already occurred in their lives. 

“Wanda.” Erik began. “I know we briefly discussed our journey home earlier, but do you think—

“I can do it.” Said Wanda with much more confidence than she felt. “I brought us here, I can get us back. I can. Do you…when do you want to go, Pietro?” 

Pietro looked at Wanda with his dark brown eyes through a layer of silver bangs and answered, “Now. I want to go now.…I just…can you do something for me first?”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
PIETRO POV

“Pietro, I really don’t think I’m qualified to do this. This is a mistake waiting to happen.”   
“No.” replied Pietro. “asking Erik to do this would’ve been a mistake. You’ll figure it out.” 

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence, but I still don’t think it’s a good idea. And are you sure you want to cut it. I mean, you’ve had long hair for practically forever.”

It was true. Pietro had had long hair since he was old enough to decide for himself how he wanted it. He hadn’t always liked his hair, being that it was the color someone at least three times his age might have. He’d even tried to dye it when he was younger, and he still found himself wishing he’d been born with his sister’s hair color from time to time, but more recently he had come to accept it. As he’d grown older, it had acted as somewhat of a comfort, something he could hide behind when—despite all of the bravado he displayed before he was taken—he actually had felt a great deal of self-doubt in a world where after his sister had left, he had felt so alone. But he didn’t want to hide anymore, and he was different now. He needed a change.

His hair was longer than it had ever been before too, just grazing the top of his shoulders. 

(Guess that will happen when psychos want to examine everything that makes you so different from them.)

“Just cut it, Wanda. I trust you.” 

“But you haven’t even said how you want it cut!” said Wanda in exasperation. “I know you’re fast, but might I remind you that your speed doesn’t crossover into rapid hair growth. If I cut it, it’s going to stay that way for awhile.”

“I know, Wanda. I just…I just want it to be different. I need…I need to see a change when I look in the mirror. Okay? Just surprise me.” 

“But…okay, Pietro…I just wanted to be sure that this is really what you want.”  
________________________________________________________________________________

WANDA POV

Wanda sighed. This was scarier than the prospect of having to get them all back to their own universe. Okay, maybe not, but it was a bit nerve-racking. Pietro never liked anyone messing with his hair, and now he wanted her—someone who was definitely not a beautician, and whose own hair management style went about as far as running a brush through it in the morning, or putting it in a pony tail to braiding it, if she was feeling particularly motivated—to cut it. 

But if this would help Pietro get better, and it was what he wanted, then she would do it. She would do anything for her brother. 

Setting to work, she picked up the scissors and electric hair clippers Al had provided. After a bit of experimentation, she figured out how to turn on the clippers, but when she turned her gaze back to where her brother sat on a stool in the middle of the bathroom, his eyes were wide and she could see fear radiating from them.

“Peter?” she asked cautiously. 

“Pete, are you okay?” Wanda asked a little louder, her anxiety rising when her brother didn’t respond. The fear had gone from his eyes now, and what was left was a blank stare, the blank stare she had lived with for the past couple of weeks, and she felt her own fear build up inside her. 

No. We can’t go back to this.

“Pietro!” pleaded Wanda, her voice even louder yet as she placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Suddenly, Pietro jumped, and for a moment Wanda thought he was going to fall off the stool, but he did not.

“Wh—what?” said Pietro.

“You weren’t answering me! I told you; this was a bad idea. I’m not going to do this.” Stated Wanda, turning off the clippers and placing them back on the bathroom counter.

“No! No, please. I’m fine! Really! I just…maybe don’t use the clippers, okay?…the noise…it just reminded me…just stick to the scissors, please. And I think I’m just gonna close my eyes while you work.”

Wanda rubbed her temples with her fingers in frustration and defeat. “Okay, but if you zone out like that again, I’m stopping.” 

“Just get to it Picasso.” said Pietro. 

“You know, Picasso was an artist not a hair stylist, right?”

“eh, same difference.”

Chuckling softly at her brother’s remark, happy that he had recovered momentarily from whatever memory that had haunted him, Wanda picked up the scissors this time, and went to work on Pietro’s hair. She did her best to cut it in a style that she hoped he would like. Drawing inspiration from the haircuts she had seen on some of the younger workers around the farm, and some of the styles she had seen worn by people on the few excerpts of tv shows or commercials that Al had left on the tv, which she’d vaguely paid attention to when she’d needed a moment of reprieve from worrying about Pietro. Wanda cut away at Pietro’s hair. She trimmed the sides down quite a bit but left his hair longer on top. 

While she worked, she tried to engage Pietro in a more serious conversation, “Pietro, I just want you to know that I’m sorry I left home. I never should have done that to you, or Mila and Marya. Maybe if I would’ve been there, I could have changed what happened, maybe not, but either way, I just want you to know that if you want to talk about it, I—”

“Wanda. Stop. You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault, and I get why you left. You thought you were doing what was best for everyone. I’m not gonna say it didn’t hurt because it did. It hurt like hell when you left, but the rest of it, that’s not your fault, but I don’t want to talk about. So just don’t.”

“But, Pietro—”

“Don’t, Wanda. I don’t want to talk about it. I barely want to talk at all, maybe one day I will, but not now, so please….just don’t.”

Wanda sighed again, but she realized that talking about the past was what she wanted, not what was necessarily best for Pietro. “Okay, Pete. You don’t have to talk about it now, but please don’t keep it inside for too long. And…and if God forbid you ever feel like you’re going to do something drastic, please talk to me…or…or to Erik, okay? I can’t lose you again. There’s no me if there’s no you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Said Pietro quietly.

And with that damper on the mood, Wanda put the finishing touches on Pietro’s haircut. She didn’t it make it as drastic as some of the haircuts that people she’d seen on television in this world sported, opting to let the shorter hair on the sides of Pietro’s head flow naturally into the longer top. 

It was a little unsettling at first. With the new haircut, Pietro looked…well he looked a lot more like Erik. His cheekbones appeared more prominent, especially with his weight loss, and she expected that when he opened his eyes, those dark orbs would be just as piercing and as haunting as their father’s. 

(I wonder if Erik will notice the similarities between them.)

It was kind of a scary thought to think that as Pietro grew older, he might look more and more like their father. She knew Pietro still had a lot of growing up to do before he got there, especially with all he had been through making him look skinny and younger than he was, but she was a little worried that she was speeding along the process with this haircut.

(What if people start to notice how much they look alike?)

Wanda knew Erik didn’t want it advertised that he had children for obvious reasons. He was likely afraid their connection might endanger them, which—noting current events—was a legitimate concern. All in all though, in the end she was actually pleased with the result, as striking of a change as it may be.

“Okay. I’m done.” said Wanda.

Pietro opened his eyes, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

“Well? What do you think? Do you hate it?”

“No…It’s perfect.” Said Pietro, and Wanda felt overwhelmingly happy when a legitimate grin lit up Pietro’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has left a review or kudos and also to everyone who has bookmarked or subscribed to this story. There wouldn’t be a story without all of you, and please continue to share your thoughts and ideas. I love reading them. Warning: There are slight spoilers ahead for Captain America Civil War. The spoilers may also grow as I update, but I’ll let you know. Once again, a character's thoughts are in parenthesis because Rich Text is being uncooperative

ERIK POV

Erik was a little wary of this whole haircut idea. He certainly wasn’t going to stop Pietro from getting a haircut. It was just hair, and he could do what he wanted with it. What concerned Erik was that even though Pietro was adamant about getting a haircut now, he was afraid his son would regret it afterward, and the change would worsen his already fragile state. 

Erik really hoped Pietro didn’t plan to get rid of all of his hair just because it marked him as abnormal. His son’s hair was unique and Erik’s opinion, magnificent. 

Erik felt another flash of anger toward the people who had worked so hard to break down his son’s self-worth. From the children who had teased Pietro growing up to his step-uncle to the mad scientists and government officials who had used his son as a lab rat, on some level, he wanted them all to pay.

Erik clenched his son’s silver jacket between his fingers. Wanda had still been wearing it when she’d brought them over to this world, and in the midst of the struggles and anxiety over Pietro’s recovery, it had lain forgotten under a chair in the bedroom where his son spent most of his time, but when the twins had gone off to work on Pietro’s hair, Erik had picked it up, intending to give it back Pietro in the hope of lifting his spirits and reminding him of the exuberant boy who had broken him out of prison and absolutely loved using his powers.

(I wonder if I’ll ever see that same boy again.)

Sighing, Erik looked out at the view of Al’s sprawling cornfield from where he was sitting on the front porch. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew not too far away was the wide area of flattened cornstalks where he, Wanda, and Pietro had first arrived in this universe.

They sure had made quite the impact on the field during their arrival. Out of curiosity, Erik had asked Al had what he had told people if they questioned what had happened there, and the farmer had replied, ‘crop-circles. Ya tell people crop circles and that satisfies most folks. The general public chalk crop circles up to kids pulling a creative prank, and the crazies—or maybe they aren’t so crazy—claim aliens, so that excuse basically covered my arse.’ 

They would be leaving from that same area once the sun had set. They had decided it would be better to leave under the cover of darkness, just to be a little more inconspicuous because they weren’t sure exactly what would happen. Erik also thought that leaving from the same place they arrived would give them a better chance of returning to where they were from. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, but Erik thought it had to count for something that they had landed there. Maybe in that location, there was still a memory of where Wanda had ripped through the fabric of space and time, and on that same note, it might be the only place from whilst they could return.

Though Erik had complete faith in his daughter’s ability to bring them home, he still didn’t want his kids or himself to get their hopes up. Because she had brought them here, Wanda obviously held the power within herself to get them back where they belonged, he just didn’t know if she’d be able to do it on command or on the first try. 

Erik’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he heard the screen door creak open behind him, and the twins come outside, Wanda first, followed by Pietro who—though still walking with crutches—looked a little steadier on his feet. 

Erik stood to greet them, and as his son came into view, Erik did a double take. The haircut was a definite change. It was much shorter, but still retained a lot of length on top, which stuck up in a perfectly disheveled way that looked both like he had just rolled out of bed and also like it had been meticulously styled. 

Erik smiled. It suited him well, and he imagined the hairstyle was a little more practical for running. His hair certainly wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore, though Erik wondered if that had ever really been a problem considering the speeds his son could reach. He wasn’t quite sure how the physics of Pietro’s power worked.

Erik also noted—though maybe he was imagining it—that Pietro’s new hairstyle highlighted the similarities between father and son, which made him both pleased and apprehensive. Their connection had already caused Pietro enough troubles to last a life time, and he wasn’t sure emphasizing that connection was the best idea. But either way he felt something more than what mere pride could express when he looked at his son, and his daughter.

(Even if I am able to accomplish all I have in mind for the mutant race, my children will forever be my greatest accomplishment.)

For a moment, Erik saw a flash of another life. One where mutants weren’t persecuted for simply being who they are. One in which Magda and Anya were still alive, and he and Magda had raised their children all together…

Erik let the image fade away. There was no use living in a fantasy that would never happen, when he could appreciate the life he did have with his children who were very much alive. 

“Well, it looks like Wanda has another hidden talent. Your hair looks wonderful, Pietro. Well done, Wanda.”

“Thanks.” The twins said together, in a very twin-like fashion, and then briefly smiled at each other. 

“Is—is that my jacket?” asked Pietro sounding slightly baffled while looking down at the article of clothing Erik still had clutched in his hands.

“Yes it is.” said Erik smiling slightly. “Your sister wore it when we came to get you. She thought you might want it back.” Erik held it out to his son, who stepped forward and accepted it.

“Thanks, Wanda.” said Pietro quietly. “I didn’t think I’d see it again, not after…well I thought it would’ve been left at the home, or what used to be home.”

“Well Erik was the one that got it out of there, so you should really thank him.” said Wanda, surprising Erik.

“Actually, it was Mila who wouldn’t let go of it, so I guess you’ll just have to thank her when we get back.” Stated Erik matter-of-factly.

“Okay. I will. But seriously guys, just accept the thanks like normal people.” said Pietro putting on the jacket over some random dark blue/navy t-shirt that had a red, white, and blue shield-like circle with a white star in the center on it that Al had purchased for the boy a couple of days ago, along with a few other articles of clothing. It was quite thoughtful of the farmer because the clothes Pietro had been borrowing before then had been way too big, especially considering his weight loss, and made the Pietro look ridiculously small. 

Even though it happened to be an unseasonably cool summer day, it was still probably too hot to wear the jacket, but Erik didn’t think Pietro cared. He could tell his son just wanted to take comfort in having something that was familiar to him. 

Just then, Al—who had been out doing some chores—came into view.

“Lookin’ good sport.” said Al walking up toward the house, but pausing a short distance away. “Now, I wonder if you’d all indulge in old man. Since you’re leaving—and don’t look at me like that—I don’t blame you for wanting to get home. I never expected you to stay forever, but I wonder if you wouldn’t mind letting me take a photo of you all together. I’d greatly appreciate it. My memory isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t want to forget any of you. You’re remarkable people.” 

Erik looked at his children before answering. He didn’t really want to take a photo, but the farmer had been very accommodating and it was the least they could do. They probably would never see him again. “I suppose we could manage a photo, if it’s alright with Wanda and Pietro.” 

“Yea of course, Al, but only if we get one of you too.” said Wanda giving the man a small smile. 

Pietro just nodded, stepping closer to Wanda and Erik.

Al chuckled. “Well alright. Sounds like a fair bargain. Get together now.”

Al pulled out his phone as Wanda and Pietro came to stand on either side of Erik.

“Alright.” Said Al. “Try to look a little cheery.” 

Looking out at Al, Wanda gave small smile, Pietro managed to lift his lips slightly, and though Erik couldn’t find it in himself to grin like he once did in a photo with his family many years ago, his lips did upturn slightly and there was a twinkle in his eyes that certainly hadn’t been there a year ago. At the last second, Erik put an arm around both of his children, grateful that they were both by his side and in his life, and then Al took the photo, capturing a rare peaceful moment of the resilient little family.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Erik, Wanda, Pietro, and Al spent the rest of the day relaxing and simply enjoying each other’s company. Pietro and Wanda spent the majority of the afternoon playing fetch with Copper, and seeing all of the joy and comfort the puppy seemed to be bring to Pietro, Erik found himself considering getting the kid a dog of his own, once they were back in their own world that is. He knew there were such things as therapy dogs, so he thought it might help Pietro recover, but Erik also hoped he would come to his senses before he returned home because he couldn’t quite picture himself doing something as normal and mundane as purchasing a family pet. 

Erik also wasn’t sure how Charles would feel about having a dog running around his school, as it was more likely than not, if Charles really was reopening the school that the twins would end up living there. At least, Erik hoped they would want to live there. More than anything, Erik wanted to be a part of their lives, well more than that. He wanted to be the father they so desperately deserved, and part of him just wanted to move far away with Pietro and Wanda, maybe all the way to where he had grown up, but he knew that wouldn’t necessarily be what was best for them. 

Erik would always be haunted by his past choices and though their lives were bound to be in danger anyway because they were mutants, there would be an even greater threat on their lives if they remained with Erik. Charles’ home was a better place to grow up, and they would have stability there, stability that Erik couldn’t offer them.

No, remaining at Charles’ was the best option for his children, and Erik would visit whenever he could. He just hoped Wanda and Pietro would understand that it would be the best and safest choice, and he knew Charles would be able to teach them to harness and control their powers, seeing that Charles—though he probably regrets it now—was the one who had helped Erik reach his full potential.

Figuring they would have plenty of time to discuss the future when they returned home, since Erik was in no hurry to leave the children whom he had so recently discovered, Erik brought his mind back to the present. 

Wanda, Pietro, and Al had retreated back into the farmhouse to get something to eat before they left this world for good, but Erik had stayed outside. He was trying to get Al’s old tractor running, even though the farmer had told him not to bother, Erik figured he should at least try, considering all Al had done for them, and Erik had been the one to botch Al’s restoration plans in the first place when he had sent the tractor soaring across the cornfield in his rage. 

Erik was just about to return his focus to the old tractor when he heard a noise in the distance that was growing louder. Erik looked up and against the backdrop of the evening sunset, he saw that a flying object was rapidly approaching. 

As the object drew closer, Erik could see that it seemed to be in the shape of a man. Erik stood up on high alert as he watched the figure grow closer yet. Erik didn’t know what was about to happen, but he had a feeling his family’s plans were about to change and that whoever piloted the flying suit had come to this particular farm because of his and his children’s presence there. But Erik was ready and willing to do whatever he needed to to protect Pietro and Wanda, and in this case, he was more than confident that he could do so. After all, Erik senses told him that the flying suit was made of metal. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
TONY STARK POV

A little while earlier and a few miles away…

Tony was exhausted. He had given a speech at M.I.T. yesterday and funded every students’ research project. He should’ve been feeling great, but a confrontation from a woman who had lost her son in Sovokia had left him feeling much closer to a piece of shit than a hero, so with that on top of a long flight to Iowa had left him understandably irritable and depressed for most of the day. He hadn’t been able to focus very well as he scoped out potential locations and attempted to schmooze the necessary people to get new and improved windmills he’d invented that also incorporated solar energy constructed and put in place across the state of Iowa. 

He’d finally finished with his last meeting of the day when Darcy had not so subtly reminded him as to why she was along on the business trip in the first place. Tony wasn’t quite sure why he had agreed to let Darcy tag along on his trek across Iowa, but Thor’s girlfriend, Jane, had called him right after he finished his speech at M.I.T. and asked if Darcy could join him, because she felt like it would be a good experience for her and apparently there were some abnormal readings that had popped up in the state a couple of weeks ago.

Normally, Tony would’ve been intrigued by the prospect of a scientific anomaly, but distracted as he was by the still fresh words of the broken hearted mother, he hadn’t really paid that much attention to what she’d said. Honestly, the true reason he’d agreed to let Darcy accompany him was because after Pepper had cancelled and his conversation with the angry mother, he just didn’t want to be alone.

In hindsight, agreeing to let Darcy join him may not have been the best decision, as she was a wisecracking opinionated young woman, and Tony kept going back and forth between being irritated and appreciative of her snark.

“So you’re just going to go fly up to this farmhouse and question the owner?” asked Darcy. She had just shown him the exact location of the unusual readings from two weeks prior. The readings originated from a random piece of farmland and after doing some quick research on his tablet with the almost boundless resources that come with being a billionaire and a genius, he had been quickly able to uncover who the owner of the land was. 

The particular field in question belonged to one Al Walker, who had a son and wife that were deceased, a daughter that lived in California, and no other living relatives. Hence, the farmer lived alone, so Tony figured it be simpler just to approach the old man, ask him a few questions, throw some money at him if need be, and keep him from unnecessarily involving the media about what may have been another inter-dimensional alien landing site. All in all, Tony didn’t foresee it being that difficult to get up close and personal to the site in question, and taking some readings and exploring the area would be a welcome distraction from his current dismal state of mind.

Tony would’ve just traveled with Darcy to the farmhouse via car, but they’d blown a tire on the gravel road a few minutes beforehand, causing the vehicle to careen off the road, and become stuck in a ditch. He’d rented the now incapacitated vehicle for them after he’d refused a driver for the day. Recently, he seemed to less and less frequently find himself behind the wheel of a vehicle, so today he’d decided to enjoy the feeling of cruising down the open road. 

Tony didn’t particularly feel like waiting around for a tow truck or the replacement vehicle he’d called for, so employing his Iron Man suit seemed like the only desirable option. Getting back to answering Darcy’s question, Tony replied, “Essentially, yes. I’m sure it will be the highlight of his day. Are you going to try to talk me out of it? Because I can already tell you that it would be a waste of your time, but more importantly mine.” 

“What!? No. I’m going to come with you! You know Jane instructed me to check out the location of these other-worldly-esque energy spikes since she’s been booked up to her eye-balls with conferences, events, and world crises the past two weeks—or really the past five years—so that’s what I’m gonna do. Plus, some crazy shit is bound to go down. Jane says these readings are reminiscent of Thor’s when he enters our world, universe, dimension, or whatever, and it’s always an interesting day when he shows up. Besides, it’s this or Netflix, but someone won’t share their personal hotspot password, so I guess that’s off the table.” said Darcy. 

Darcy’s response almost made Tony smile. Almost. 

“Right, well do you have an iron man suit?” said Tony condescendingly as he deployed his own suit.

“Noooo…”

“Then, I guess I’ll see you when you catch up.” stated Tony as he shot off into the sky.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Tony descended toward the old white farmhouse, he saw that there was a man outside next to an ancient rusted tractor. As he drew closer, the man stood up and watched his approach intently, and soon it became clear to Tony that this man was definitely not Al Walker, as he was much too young, and though he hated to admit it, quite a bit younger than Tony himself. 

Tony figured the man must just be a farm hand, but since he’d spotted Tony and he was the only individual in sight, he figured it would be best to talk to him rather than completely ignoring the man in search of the owner of the farmhouse and its surrounding fields, who might not even be currently at home.

Landing with a dull thud, Tony retracted his face mask and made eye contact with the man’s steady and rather guarded gaze. “Hello citizen of Iowa. What’s your name, sir? You’re obviously not Al Walker. This is his residence, correct? You work here?” 

The man looked rather appalled at being bombarded with questions, responding “How about you tell me who the hell you are before you come flying in here unannounced and start questioning me” said the man with a slight accent.

“Fair enough. I suppose that may have been rude, but seriously, you don’t know who I am? Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Ringing any bells? No? Jeesh. This state must be like the Bermuda triangle of America’s mainland, but the anonymity is surprisingly refreshing. Anyway, the name’s Tony Stark. In current years I tend to have a habit of lending a hand when the odd event pops up, which lucky you, happened here about two weeks ago. There were some foreign energy spikes on Mr. Walker’s farmland and when I say foreign, I mean ‘not of this world,’ so now that that’s out of the way, I’ll repeat, do you work here, or do you know where I might find Mr. Walker?”

The man’s face remained fairly impassive throughout Tony’s explanation, but he seemed to stiffen more when Tony said ‘not of this world.’ Tony also seemed to detect that there was more to this man than a stoic exterior. 

“No, I don not work here officially. Al is my uncle. I am just visiting for a short while.” answered the man.

Tony raised his eyebrows skeptically. Tony knew from his recent research that Al didn’t have a nephew.

(He should’ve just told me he worked here.)

“Really? So you’d be his brother’s son?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before the man replied, “Yes.”

“I see…well that seems a little odd, since Mr. Walker doesn’t have a brother.” Replied Tony

This time the man didn’t hesitate with his response, and instead impressed Tony with his ability to think on his feet. “My father was an illegitimate child, so wherever you’re getting your information, it’s obviously not completely accurate.”

“Right. Sure. You know what I think mystery man?” asked Tony stepping closer to the man. “I think you know something about what happened here a couple of weeks back, and you’re not too keen on sharing. Maybe Al Walker knows what happened here too or maybe you commandeered his land for some reason or another, but either way, it’d just be easier if you’d tell me what you know. Otherwise, this can get a whole lot messier than it needs to be. I mean, you don’t really want a big investigation and all the jazz that goes along with that to come raining down on this farm, do you? Trust me the media and government would just ruin this place’s whole green acres vibe and that would certainly be a shame.”

The man looked down for a moment, apparently thinking, before suddenly bringing his gaze back up to meet Tony’s and quickly thrusting his hand out in front of him. Before Tony had time to respond, he felt his body, suit and all, being lifted from the ground and pulled toward the man. 

(Okay, so yea. He definitely knows something, or is the something.)

“Sir, there seems to be a foreign force, interfering with the suit’s controls.” Stated Tony’s new A.I., F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Yes, I’ve noticed F.R.I.D.A.Y., thanks for pointing that out.” 

Tony couldn’t move his arms or legs and as he was pulled closer to the man, he felt his suit contracting in on itself, just enough to cause discomfort. 

“Hey, you know, you actually had my full attention before, but now I can 100% assure that it’s complete undivided.” 

“I don’t want your attention. I want you gone.” replied the man.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., get ready to activate full thruster power.” said Tony quietly to his A.I., so the mystery man couldn’t hear him.

“Hmm, well you’re kinda sending me mixed messages then, since I’m pretty sure your holding me here.” said Tony still maintaining his signature wit and humor despite the current situation. 

Glaring at Tony, the man replied, “If I let you go, you’re going to come back, most likely with reinforcements.”

“Yes, I could do that…or we could just continue or conversation with a better attitude on your part. I mean, usually I have to antagonize people a bit longer before they try to crush, strangle, or on occasion, throw me out a window. You sort of jumped the gun a bit, didn’t you? Does someone have anger management problems?”

Tony could tell he was irritating the man, but that was all part of his plan, as in his anger the man twisted his hand and pulled Tony closer to himself, which would soon put Tony at just the right angle to blast him with a thruster.

“You are the one who implied the threat of force. I do not take well to being threat—” suddenly the man’s posture changed. He went from standing defiantly in front of Tony to staggering forward a step before dropping sideways to the ground, and as this happened Tony also dropped to the ground, not too gracefully, but he managed to stay upright. 

Tony drew his gaze away from the man—who only appeared to be unconscious—to the vicinity directly behind where he had been standing, and as he did, his eyes met with those of his rescuer: Darcy Lewis.

“You’re welcome.” said Darcy smugly.

“I had it under control. Besides, could you not see we were having a conversation?”

“Riiiight. Do most of the conversations you have involved being held in paralysis by some dude’s freaky mind powers? If the answer is yes, do you have their numbers? Because that guy”—said Darcy pointing at the man on the ground—“seems pretty sketchy, but also now that I can see his face, he’s a totally hottie. What?! I’m kidding! Kinda. I have an intern, I mean boyfriend.”

“What did you hit him with anyway.” asked Tony, walking forward to examine the man.

Darcy grinned proudly and twirled a small plastic weapon in her hand. “State of the art tranquilizer. Just don’t ask where I got it…and don’t tell Jane. It’s not quite as satisfying as hitting someone with a taser though.” 

“Well, props to you for effectiveness.” 

“Thanks, I—”

“Hey!” a voice behind them spoke up interrupting them. Tony and Darcy both whipped around. As he turned, Tony just had time to register that the voice came from one of two young teenagers who must’ve come from the other side of or inside the farmhouse, but evidently, Darcy’s mind didn’t register anything much at all because in her surprise she shot a dart at the two teenagers.

Tony had just enough time to think: shit, their parents are definitely going to sue me over this, when the boy reacted impossibly fast and snatched the dart out of the air which had been heading directly at the girls’ neck. 

(Enhanced teenagers. Not good.)

“uhhhh….impressive catch! Sorry for almost tranqing you. Do you know Matilda over here?” asked Darcy gesturing to the man on the ground.

“What did you do to him?!” demanded the girl angrily. The boy just stood there looking like he wanted to run away or do something drastic, but for now he was deferring to the girl beside him. 

Tony realized that the girl was the one who had spoken before. He also noticed that her hands were beginning to glow a brilliant red, which got Tony feeling a little unsettled, as the girl reminded him of a certain young Maximoff. Tony’s unsettlement grew as he looked at her companion: A pale, thin boy who looked like he’d recently served as a punching bag with—of all possible colors—silver hair, and wearing a bright silver jacket over a Captain America T-shirt. 

(Typical. They probably don’t know who Iron Man is, but Captain America has fans everywhere.)

“Look, uh"—(children of the corn? Probably not appropriate)—"kids, let’s all just calm down and—” Tony was interrupted mid-sentence as the boy and girl suddenly collapsed onto the ground. “—talk.”

Standing behind the fallen teenagers, stood Maria Hill, slowly lowering a weapon.

“What the hell Hill!?! Did you just shoot children?!” demanded Tony.

“I iced them, Mr. Stark.” replied Maria calmly, stowing her weapon.

“You what?!” asked Darcy

“I used an Incapacitating Cartridge Emitting Railgun, otherwise known as an I.C.E.R. They’ll be fine when they wake up.” 

“Okay…but you still shot children. That’s kind of something I try to avoid. I know they can be annoying little turds, but even I know you can’t just knock-em out when they get on your nerves.” stated Tony.

“It was necessary. The situation was escalating. I deescalated it. I’m sure you noticed the boy’s inhuman reflexes, not too mention the girl’s glowing hands. If I had allowed the situation to continue, one way or another, someone was going to get hurt. Besides, did you not ice that man over there as well?”

“First of all, he was being an ass, so he deserved it, and it wasn’t an I.C.E.R., it was a tranquilizer, and that was actually Darcy’s doing so I hold no blame in this situation.” replied Tony.

“Yea that was all me! The dude was going all Darth Vader on Tony, so of course I saved the day.” said Darcy butting in, apparently proud of her work. “That I.C.E.R. doohickey is pretty slick though. I really got to get me one of those. Don’t worry, I won’t go around shooting random teenagers…speaking of which, what’s your plan know that you’ve incapacitated Luke and Leia over there?” 

“We have to bring them in, to the Avengers’ compound that is. They’ll be safest there and well out of the public eye while we decide how to proceed, especially after what just happened in Lagos. Now if you two could help me move them into my vehicle, we’ll get on our way back to the jet.” stated Maria.

“Just wait a second.” said Tony slightly irritated that decisions were being made without his input and still feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t been able to prevent the two kids from getting ice, no matter how creepily some of their characteristics seemed to resemble the Maximoff twins. “How did you even know we were here?” then turning to Darcy, “And how did you get here? And what happened in Lagos?”

Darcy quickly replied, “Oh, I uh may have charmed my way into getting some local Iowan to give me a ride here on his motorcycle. Also, maybe don’t check EBay for a couple of days…unless you want to buy back some of the articles of clothing and other various items you left back in the car. Turns out, your possessions work really well as currency when you are able to convince said motorcycle riding Iowan that they actually belongs to you. Thank God for smart phones and photographic evidence.”

“Right…well we’re going to talk about boundaries later. Ms. Hill, what’s your story?” asked Tony

“You might not be on speaking terms right now, Mr. Stark, but Ms. Potts still cares about your safety and well-being, and as the CEO of Stark industries, I go where she commands. As for what happened in Lagos, I think that conversation is going to have to wait for a bit, as I believe I’ve found Al Walker.” finished Hill as she looked past Tony and Darcy toward the farmhouse, causing the two to spin abruptly around to see that an older gentleman was indeed approaching from the house, carrying a shotgun and looking none too happy.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the beginning of this chapter seems rushed. I wanted to move things along. Also, because I forgot to mention it before the last chapter, in addition to not owning the x-men, I also do not own Marvel or any of the Avengers. So without further ado, in honor of X-men Apocalypse’s release today. Here’s another chapter. Thoughts are in parenthesis again. WARNING: Once again there are very minor spoilers for Captain America Civil War.

TONY POV 

It had been no easy feat getting off of Al Walker’s farm unscathed. Unlike the mystery man, Mr. Walker had known exactly who Tony Stark was, but he had not seemed to care in the least. He did however seem to care a great deal about the three unconscious individuals lying in his front yard. Thus, the fact that Maria, Darcy, and Tony had been able to leave with their unconscious burdens in tow, without tranquilizing, icing, or tasering the farmer was nothing short of a miracle.

Initially, there had been some heated words exchanged by both Tony and Mr. Walker, before Maria had stepped in and defused the situation. It turns out, when she wants to be, Maria is a lot more personable than Tony. 

After Maria had explained that the three individuals who Mr. Walker evidently knew, were perfectly alright, just unconscious, it had still taken awhile to get him to lower his gun. It had taken even longer to convince him not to go running to the local authorities or the media to report a kidnapping if they left with the three enhanced individuals. 

At first, Mr. Walker had tried to stick to the same story the mystery man had spouted off about him being Al’s nephew and that the boy and girl were the mystery man’s children—that part Tony actually thought was probably true—but Tony, unable to hold his tongue completely, had smugly stated that if they were related, then he wouldn’t mind doing a DNA test. After all, that would clear everything up, prove the man really was his nephew, and then everyone could be on their merry way.

Of course a DNA test would show the two weren’t related and though Tony already had surmised this, Al’s look grim look of defeat confirmed it. Fortunately, at this point, Maria had stepped in again, and explained that taking them away now was for their own safety as much as anyone else’s. If they had recognized that something abnormal had happened on the Walker farm, then other not-so-friendly people may figure out the same, given time. 

Nevertheless, Mr. Walker refused to be convinced, but in the end they just really didn’t give the farmer a choice. Either he could cooperate and they would take the three enhanced individuals with them and send updates to him about their well-being and allow for correspondence, or they would take the three enhanced individuals away anyway and keep Al forever in the dark.

With this statement, the farmer seemed to realize there was nothing he could do besides let them take away the family he’d grown close to in the past couple of weeks, but he still refused to share anything about the three individuals who had been staying with him, saying ‘he had no right to share a story that was not his own, and that he didn’t know much anyway.’ He did however divulge the unconscious individuals’ names, which Tony figured was mostly because the man was tired of Tony referring to them as the enhanced individuals. So Tony learned that the mystery man’s name was Erik, and his children were Wanda and Pietro. With Mr. Walker’s announcement of the last two names, Tony and Maria had shared a look of trepidation. 

Just as they were about to go, the farmer made one final plea to Tony to get them to leave empty-handed, ‘They were going to go home. Just…please let them go home. That’s all they want.’ 

To which Tony had replied, ‘I’m sorry but I can’t allow that. It’s about time that people who can do extraordinary things were put in check, and that doesn’t mean leaving people like them…people like me to their own devices.’

With that proclamation, Tony, Maria, and Darcy had left the Walker farm. Despite her protests, Darcy had been sent back to New Mexico, where Jane was awaiting her return after finishing up her most recent lecture in London. The whole situation was now set at a need to know basis, and Darcy—in Tony’s opinion—already knew more than she needed to, but she had been granted permission to inform Jane about what had occurred, since it had been her expertise that had led them to the farm in the first place. 

Darcy had still furiously protest her forced sabbatical, expressing her very adamant wishes to visit the Avenger’s Compound and ‘see if this whole shindig ended like A New Hope or more like The Empire Strikes Back.’ In the end though, she had relented and agreed to head back to New Mexico, on the condition that if Vader didn’t turn out to be a total crazy they’d give him her number, just in case things didn’t work out with Ian. 

Once on the plane, Maria caught Tony up on what had occurred in Lagos, showing him a video of the event, to which his only response was ‘shit.’

_________________________________________

It was some time later that Tony and Maria, along with their precious cargo arrived at the Avenger’s compound. The three enhanced individuals had remained unconscious all the way to the compound, whether that was by chance or Maria had kept them out of it on purpose, Tony didn’t know. 

Upon their arrival, it was decided that the teenagers would be separated from the man for their safety. Although during their brief interaction back at the farm the kids had seemed pretty upset that the man—their father according to Mr. Walker and confirmed by the quick DNA test Tony conducted—had been rendered unconscious, it had been obvious after further examination that the boy had extensive injuries beyond just those that were visible, including wounds that were fairly new, as well as other much older scars. Maria and Tony didn’t want to endanger the kids unnecessarily in case, Erik, was indeed the abuser and the kids were perhaps suffering from a case of Stockholm syndrome. 

Thus, at is stood, Erik had been placed in isolation in a room of Tony’s own creation. It was a little project that Tony had begun working on shortly after Loki’s invasion. The room was meant to render magic and enhanced individuals powerless, and though he hadn’t yet been able to test it on an actual person, it seemed to work on all alien tech, so Tony was confident—well fairly confident—in its capability. After all, he created it.

Either way, he was quite pleased with the schematics of the room in which the mystery man was being held. In theory, Tony had created it in such a way that one just had to take a bit of an individual’s DNA, isolate the part that produced their power and program the room to suppress that ability. Consequently, the detainee wouldn’t be able to use his powers in the room since Tony had taken Erik’s DNA and locked the room onto the most intriguing part of it—a variant in the 23rd pair of the X-Chromosome—that he believed held the source of the man’s ability. 

The kids had been taken to a more comfortable room and left under the supervision of Vision, who Tony hoped would be more than capable of handling any outbursts, enhanced or otherwise that might arise when the teenagers woke up. Tony was just glad Vision had offered to take up that post because Tony was in no shape or form interested in babysitting, nor did he feel qualified to do so. 

Tony gave an exaggerated sigh. He was tired of waiting. The Avengers were set to have a meeting with the Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross, which was scheduled to start shortly, and Tony didn’t like to imagine how long that was going to last. It could be hours before he got a chance to question this ‘Erik,’ and Tony didn’t want to wait that long. He also needed something to occupy his mind right now, and what better way to do that than by questioning Erik.

So Tony unlocked the first set of doors that led to the unique room holding Erik, and after they closed behind him, he opened the next set of doors and walked into the room that was empty, except for a chair in which Erik was currently sitting in and a table on which Erik’s hands were resting in handcuffs chained to the table itself. The handcuffs still allowed for some mobility, as they were chain-linked, but not much.

Erik’s eyes rose to meet Tony’s as he entered. “Good! you’re up. I hope you got some beauty sleep. You were a tad cranky the last time we spoke.” said Tony making his way to stand in front of Erik.

“Where are my children?” said Erik. The question was not spoken loudly, but there was such malice in those four words and in the man’s eyes that Tony had to stop himself from taking a step back. Though Tony liked to think he didn’t frighten easily, he did find himself feeling grateful that the man was in handcuffs and that his power suppressing room seemed to be working, as evidence by the fact that Tony wasn’t being throttled by an invisible force.

Tony also noted that beneath the man’s anger, he looked awful, and for a moment Tony felt a tad guilty that he may have been sitting in here awake for some time, worrying about his children. But Tony couldn’t yet rule out the possibility that the man was an abusive father, so he pushed that feeling of guilt aside for the time being. He figured he had enough guilt already without adding to it. 

In addition to the lines of anger and worry etched on the Erik’s face, the man also seemed perplexed. Tony guessed that he was probably wondering why his telekinetic powers weren’t working. 

(Not so tough when you can’t just wave your hand and magically get what you want. Are we? Hmm, I guess that’s technically the power my money and genius give me…) 

“Easy papa bear, they’re perfectly fine, well as fine as they were when we first met. Your boy is really not in the best shape. Was that your doing?” asked Tony not wasting any time.

“Fick dich. Du dummer, arroganter kleiner Mann!1 I would never hurt my children! I cannot say the same for you though, if you do not release me and tell me where they are!” said Erik in growing frustration and volume.

“Hey. No need to get angsty.” Replied Tony. “I’m not a father—at least I hope not—but I can see you’re worried about them, which gets you parenting points, but we’ve got to talk to them first to make sure you’re really not the one who hurt the kid. Oh and you’re probably wondering why your abilities aren’t working. It’s this room. My own creation actually. It has the ability to suppress your powers while your within it. Pretty cool, right? I’d elaborate, but I can tell you’re on a one track train of thought right now.” stated Tony approaching the table where Erik was sitting. 

Tony blamed himself for what happened next. He had distracted himself with his love of science, so he didn’t have time to react when Erik unexpectedly slipped his hand out of one of the cuffs grabbed Tony by the collar and slammed his head into the table, before clasping his throat between the fingers of his free hand.

“Take me to my children now.” demanded Erik pulling Tony close, so that they were practically face to face and also close enough that he was then able to whip Tony around and put him in a chokehold.

Groggy from the impact to his head, Tony found himself unable to break the man’s hold—Tony was a lot of things when you took away his suit of armor, but physically, he wasn’t a very big guy once the armor was gone—and with no other ideas at the moment other than to buy time by using the source of power he always had on hand: his charm, because that always seemed to work out well. “Did you just dislocate your thumb to get out of those cuffs? Bold move MacGyver. I underestimated you. Definitely not the smartest thing of ever done.”

“And it will be the last thing you do, if you do not release me and take me to my children immediately!” said Erik, his demanding voice resonating throughout the room.

Tony felt the pressure around his throat increase. “I hope you realize that your violent tendencies are really not helping your case as an upstanding, non-abusive father.” Tony managed to wheeze out. “And once again, I can’t really take you anywhere when your holding me like this.”

“Then open the door and I will find them myself!” demanded Erik once more. 

“Nope can’t do that either, not without an electronic device, which I didn’t bring with me. It locks from the outside, and I didn’t tell anyone I’m in here, so you’re stuck with me, which is fine. I really didn’t want to go to my next meeting in case you couldn’t tell.” As Tony finished that statement, he felt the pressure on his throat increase even more, to the point where it became more difficult to breath, and black dots began to cloud his vision.

Fortunately for Tony, at that moment Steve burst through the room’s doors followed closely by Maria Hill.

(Thank God for Captain-fuckin’-America)

_________________________________________________  
STEVE POV

A little while earlier…

Steve’s week was not off to a good start. First of all, he’d been caught off guard in Lagos when Rumlow had managed to distract him by mentioning Bucky. That lapse of focus had ultimately led to the deaths of innocent civilians, and though Wanda blamed herself for the incident, Steve knew it was really his own fault. If he hadn’t let Rumlow’s words get to him, he would have been able to prevent Rumlow from deploying the bomb in the first place.

No matter who was truly at fault, Steve knew there was going to be repercussions, and he had a feeling he was about to face those repercussions very soon when he and the rest of the Avengers met with Secretary Ross, but first, he had to deal with the second matter that was contributing to Steve’s dismal week: the three enhanced individuals currently being held in the Avengers facility, so he turned his attention back to Agent Hill who was currently engaged in the task of debriefing him regarding he current situation as they headed toward where the enhanced man was being held. 

“We don’t know much about them, or where they come from other than Ms. Foster’s data on the energy spikes in Iowa, what Tony and I witnessed ourselves, and what we’ve gathered from our analysis of their DNA.” stated Maria.

“Alright, so give me the rundown of what you do know.” said Steve.

“According to the farmer, the man’s name is Erik. By evidence of his near stranglement of Mr. Stark, he seems to have some sort of telekinetic ability. As far as identifying features, he has a tattoo consistent with individuals who were in concentration camps during WWII. However, we were not able to match the number to a definite individual in any of the camps. The kids, a boy and a girl—his children, as verified by a DNA test and both enhanced—look to be in their mid teens. They are currently on the other side of the Avenger’s compound still unconscious and under Vision’s supervision. We thought it was best to separate them from their father, as the boy seems to be recovering from extensive injuries, and also shows signs of past abuse. The boy also has a tattoo similar to that of his father’s, but it is more recent and he’s been branded with a letter X as well.” said Maria pulling up images of Erik, Wanda, and Pietro, along with images of the markings on Erik’s and Pietro’s arms to show Steve. “Additionally, all three individuals possess an irregularity in their genetic code located on the 23rd pair of the X chromosome, which seems to indicate that they were born with whatever powers they currently posses, rather than having developed them from experimentation.”

“So are they aliens?” Steve really hoped they weren’t aliens. Not that that would making them lesser beings or not worthy of humane treatment, it was just, one alien invasion was enough per lifetime. “And what is it exactly that the kids can do? And you haven’t mentioned their names. Did this Al Walker only share the man’s name?”

“That’s where it gets interesting.” replied Maria.

“It wasn’t interesting already?” asked Steve raising an eyebrow. Interesting and distressing. Anything that involved abused children rubbed Steve the wrong way. He knew what it was like to be young, small and unable to defend yourself, and no kid should have to experience that, enhanced or otherwise. 

“From what we’ve been able to determine during their paralysis, the boy has increased metabolism and improved thermohomeostasis. We can’t determine much about the girls’ ability in her unconscious state but based on what I witnessed, my best guess is that her thing is neuro-electric interfacing, telekinesis, mental manipulation.”

“Wait. That sounds really familiar, are you saying that—”

“He’s fast, and she’s weird.” answered Maria straight faced.

Steve stopped in his tracks. The feeling of de ja vu was threatening to suffocate him.

“You’re serious?” asked Steve

“Dead serious, and oh, their names are Wanda and Pietro.”

At this, Steve was rendered speechless, and it took a bit for him to form a coherent thought again. “Are they clones?”

“No. They do not seem to be. Their genetic code is in ways similar to the Maximoffs, but it’s more like they are cousins. But based on their genetic analysis, this new Wanda and Pietro also seem to be twins.”

“Any theories?” asked Steve, forcing himself to continue gathering the facts, as if this were any other debriefing and not one that was becoming intricately more complicated. Not to mention the fact that he was at a loss himself, so he really hoped Maria had a better handle on things.

“My guess, well more like Tony’s, is that they came from another universe that’s similar to ours, but not quite the same.”

“Really? This is what we’ve come to? Alternate universes? Sometimes I miss the simple days when I just had to worry about hunting down Nazis…Have you told our Wanda?”

At that question Maria let out a quick chuckle. “Haha. No. And I’m not sure that she should be informed. After all, how exactly do you say, ‘Oh hey Miss Maximoff! Apparently there are other universes out there, and there’s one where your brother is still alive in some form or another and he just happened to end up in our universe, and now he’s currently in the Avenger’s compound under Vision’s supervision.’ That’s not exactly a conversation I care to have.”

“I see what you mean.” stated Steve as he started to walk forward once more.

Then a small voice behind them spoke just loudly enough to be heard, a voice that belonged to the Wanda Maximoff of their own universe.

“Wh—What?”

“Crap.” Said Maria turning around to meet Wanda’s wide eyed gazed before taking off in the direction that led toward Vision’s living area.

“Wanda! Wait!” Steve called as he made to go after her. 

“Crap.” said Maria again. “Wait Steve.”

“I have to go after her Maria. She can’t just go bursting in on those kids before we know what’s really going on. She’s going to be devastated when she sees its not really her brother. Not to mention meeting an alternate version of herself is sure to be weird and mess with her mind.”

“Vision can handle her. I need you to come with me. I just pulled up surveillance on our telekinetic’s holding room. Tony disregarded my recommendation to wait until I’d informed you of the situation before confronting said telekinetic, and now he’s currently not far off from once again being strangled to death.”

“Dammit Tony.” said Steve, sending one last glance down the hallway where Wanda had disappeared. “Alright, let’s go.”

_______________________________________________  
Back to the present…

Barging into the holding room, Steve easily pulled Tony out of Erik’s clutches. Though Erik was by no means a weak man, his strength couldn’t compete with that of a super soldier’s. 

Steve lifted Tony by his shirt’s collar and all but threw him out of the room before turning to address Erik, “Please excuse us for one moment.” Steve then turned and walked out of the room, letting the doors close behind him, and leaving a baffled looking Erik inside with one hand still chained to the table.

“What the heck Tony?! Maria said not to go in their alone! What were you thinking?” asked Steve. He never understood why Tony had to be so impulsive. Sure, Steve was impulsive at times, but not when he didn’t have to be.

“Well, I was thinking that I wanted answers and there was no use waiting for another person to do a one-man job.” stated Tony unperturbed.

“Right, and that plan of action seems to have been working out perfectly.” Replied Steve sarcastically. “Exactly what have you learned? And why would you antagonize the man unnecessarily? You’ve likely made it nearly impossible to get him to negotiate with us!” 

“Well it doesn’t really matter, I just gained enough evidence to support what I already knew. The guy’s an asshole. He probably has some diabolical plan to take over and/or destroy the world, while using his children as accessories to his evil plan.” replied Tony.

Steve was trying and failing to rein in his growing irritation. With everything that had happened in the past 48 hours, he just did not have any sense of calm left to deal with Tony’s personality right now. “You just assume the worst in people, don’t you? Try for a second to put yourself in his shoes. You barged onto the farm where he was staying with his family, started bombarding him with questions, knocked him and his children unconscious, then separated him from his children! Dangerous or not, he’s got a right to be upset. Let’s not turn him into our enemy before we learn more about him! And did you ever think that maybe he’s acting like an asshole because you’re being an asshole?” 

“Hmm. Well he started it.” Stated Tony indifferently.

Steve glared at Tony. “Just stay out here while I try to salvage some semblance of diplomacy before we have to meet with Secretary Ross.”

Leaving a disgruntled Tony in the hall with Maria, Steve re-entered the holding chamber.  
“Sorry about that. Tony isn’t great at making new friends. My name is Steve Rogers, though most people know me as Captain America. You can call me Steve, or whatever you’re comfortable with. Despite the impression you may have gotten from Tony, he and I are actually part of a group that serves to protect the safety of the planet. We’re known as the Avengers, and you’re being held in our home base right now. I understand why you felt the need to strangle Mr. Stark, God knows I’ve wanted to a few times, but I think we can have a civil conversation. You have every right to be angry. We essentially kidnapped you, and separated you from your children, but please understand that this is potentially only a temporary precaution. Your son has some serious injuries, and we need to speak with both of your children first before we let you see them to make sure you’re not the one who caused those injuries. I can assure you they are receiving excellent care, and I can have Agent Hill bring up surveillance evidence for you to show that they are indeed alright in just a moment, but the sooner you clear some things up for us, the sooner you can see your kids,” said Steve, while nodding for Maria to join them.

Maria unlocked the inner holding door and walked inside. Tony tried to follow, but Steve pushed him back out again.

“Come on Rogers! I found him first that means I get first dibs on interrogation. That’s the rule.” Tony practically whined. 

“Well, you already had your time with him, Tony. It’s not my fault you mucked it up.” Stated Steve closing the doors once more and leaving a miffed Tony outside. 

Meanwhile Maria brought up a video on her tablet, which she held in front of Erik, just out of his reach. The video showed Wanda and Pietro lying on two comfortable looking twin beds in a plain but warm looking room, while Vision sat in an armchair nearby reading a book.

“I assure you, though they are both unconscious for the time being, they have not been harmed, and they should be waking up any minute now.” said Maria.

“Why should I believe you. You could be showing me their dead bodies.” Growled Erik.

Steve responded before Maria could. “I understand that you don’t know me, but trust me when I say, I would never stand by and let children be harmed or murdered. I will personally take you to them, once we figure out just what your story is and that you are not a threat to them, but the only way I can do that is for you to cooperate. And I don’t think this will be necessary.” said Steve gesturing to the remaining cuff that held Erik in place. “Though I advise you not to try anything. You’re not the only one with abilities…so if you could just start by telling me where you came from I’d greatly appreciate it” Steve finished, and as he did so, he reached down and easily broke the other cuff holding Erik to the table. “And maybe you could step back outside Maria.” Steve didn’t think Erik was aware that Maria had been the one to render his children unconscious, but all the same he felt it better to talk to Erik alone. 

Erik looked down at his freed hands and back up to meet Steve’s eyes as Maria exited the room. Steve could tell he was weighing his options, and trying to get a read on Steve. Whatever he saw in Steve’s eyes must have been acceptable because after a moment he answered in a calm, steady voice, “My children and I are from a different earth, similar to yours but different in a number of ways. In our world, there exists special individuals known as mutants, who have extraordinary abilities, but we are outnumbered, feared, judged, and on too many occasions, harmed simply because we are different. That is what happened to my son. He was taken by a group of people who either wanted to study, suppress, or emulate his abilities. The injuries he bares are a result of his time imprisoned by those people, and his older scars are the result of growing up in the presence of a cruel worthless human, in the time before I knew he existed. We did not mean to come to your world. My daughter cannot always control her abilities, and upon seeing her brother in a state much worse than he is now, she inadvertently brought us to this world and time. All I want is to return with my children back to our own time and universe.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to study Erik. His story was insane, but this was an insane situation, and though there was a lot of anger and hate radiating out of Erik’s eyes, Steve also thought that in those cold eyes he could see that what Erik said was the truth.

“Wow…that’s…quite a story…You say you want to return to your own time as well. What time are you from?” There was a brief moment of silence before Steve trudged on when the man didn’t reply, “I noticed your tattoo, and Agent Hill showed me the tattoo your son bares as well, which is similar to yours, along with the word mutant and a brand in the shape of an X. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but could you explain those?...It’s just, I’m a man out of time as well. I know I don’t look it, but I was born in 1918. I fought in WWII in was frozen in ice for nearly 70 years. I won’t pretend to try to understand what it might have been like for you if you were in one of their camps, but I might understand what it feels like to be thrust into a new world.”

Erik looked at Steve with his steady gaze again before replying, “In our world it is 1973, and I was in Aushwitz as a child that is what my tattoo is from. My son’s is a result of his more recent imprisonment, as is the brand. The X stands for the X-gene. It is what separates homosuperiors from homosapiens.”

“Homosuperiors?” questioned Steve

“It is rightful name for mutants.” answered Erik.

“Speaking of names, I was told your name is Erik and your children are Wanda and Pietro, but Mr. Walker didn’t reveal anything else about you beyond that. Is that information correct, or is there something else you’d rather be called?” asked Steve. He felt it vital to address this man by his proper name. This man, who as a child was stripped of his identity and given a number instead, deserved at least that much respect, no matter his actions.

Erik hesitated for a moment. “That is correct.” 

“Okay. Just one more thing…is your last name Maximoff?”

For a second Erik looked startled before regaining his composure. Steve wondered if it had been a mistake asking him to confirm that fact, and he wondered if it had caused him to lose the little trust he had gained from the man, but Steve was just as curious as anyone as to how similar the teenagers under Vision’s care were to the Maximoff twins of this universe. Steve still carried the loss of Pietro heavily in his heart. It was one thing to lose a soldier in battle, but Pietro had just been a kid, older than Erik’s children, but still too young to die. If there was a chance that the Pietro he had only briefly known lived on in the Pietro that was currently unconscious in the Avenger’s facility, then it might make the guilt Steve carried just a little lighter.

“How do you know that name?” asked Erik in an accusatory voice. “I did not even tell Al that name.” 

Steve pondered for a moment whether he should tell Erik about the Maximoffs he knew. He didn’t know how the man would react to that information, but he couldn’t just leave Erik in his current sense of distrust.

“Believe it or not, this universe already had twins with extraordinary abilities in it named Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. That’s the only reason I knew that name.”

Erik narrowed his gaze before slowly addressing Steve in a low voice “You’re saying in this universe there are children here who are copies of my own?” 

Steve could tell that this information did not sit well with the man, so Steve quickly tried to clarify. “No they’re different than your children. They’re older than your kids for one thing, still young though, and there are other differences, like the fact that they weren’t born with their abilities. But they survived some rough experiences too....Even if they had the exact same DNA as your kids though, they really wouldn’t be the same, would they? They grew up in different worlds, in different time periods even…” Steve trailed off suddenly realizing he had been talking more to himself than to Erik, and he felt his face redden slightly under Erik’s gaze. “Sorry, it’s just part of me hoped they were the same…Our Pietro died in battle a while ago, and…well it’s being really hard on Wanda…but she’s doing the best as can be expected. She’s actually a member of the Avengers too.”

Steve watched Erik take in all this information. He could tell Erik was probably imagining what his children’s life would be like without the other twin, or maybe he was realizing how close he’d come to losing his own son.

“That’s…I don’t…” started Erik. Steve could tell Erik wasn’t the type of man who was often at a loss for words, and he wished there was something else left to say, but there really wasn’t. Steve had always been a God fearing man, but more and more recently it seemed like some divine being was just playing a great cosmic joke on everyone’s lives. Was their meaning to any of this at all?

Steve pulled himself out of his thoughts and glanced at his watch realizing the meeting with the Secretary of State was set to begin in just a few short minutes, and hoping Vision was handling Wanda. He also hoped Erik’s kids had woken up by now, so Vision could have hopefully started corroborating Erik’s story with them before the meeting. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and once your story has been confirmed by your children, we’ll get you reunited.” Said Steve as he made to leave the room.

It looked like to Steve, Erik was still considering trying to take on Steve and make a break for it, but as Steve had displayed his strength by easily taking out Tony and breaking Erik’s cuff, he figured Erik knew that wouldn’t work.

“Again, please don’t worry. Your children are in good hands.” Steve said trying to reassure the worried Father.

To which Erik replied, “I’m trusting you Captain Rogers. Do not make me live to regret it because if I do, when I get out of this room, you will regret it.”

The doors shut behind Steve, as Erik finished speaking, and though Steve didn’t plan on breaking his word to Erik and find out for sure, he felt 100% certain that the man could fully live up to that promise.  
_____________________________________________________________  
1: Fuck you. You stupid, arrogant little man!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize there was a longer time period between the event in Lagos and the Avenger's meeting with Secretary Ross, but once again I wanted to move the story along. Also, sorry if there are punctuation errors. I didn't spend as much time reviewing this chapter as I probably should have...


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once more for all the reviews, favs, and follows! It makes my heart happy that people are actually reading this story. I hope this next chapter isn’t too confusing with the clashing of characters. As always, let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. Oh, and I do not believe there are any new spoilers in this chapter.

AVENGER’S WANDA POV

Could it be true? Was her brother really alive? She had to know that’s why she had taken off right after Agent Hill had finished speaking. She knew they’d try to stop her from seeing him because of the little tid bit about Pietro being from a different universe, but it could still be him. Couldn’t it? She needed it to be him. 

God she missed her brother so much. It had been the two of them against the world since they were ten years old, and even before then, they’d been inseparable. She tried to put on a brave face for the other Avengers, and she liked to think most of the time she fooled them, but the truth was, part of her died when Pietro did, and everyday she wondered if it would be better if she just let the rest of herself die too. At least then she’d see her brother again…

But now there was a chance that he was alive, and she felt the dead chasm in her heart flicker with a tiny flame of hope.

Racing down the hall in the opposite direction of Steve and Maria, Wanda headed toward where she had last seen Vision. She’d actually witnessed Agent Hill speaking with Vision a while ago near the extra rooms in the compound that were kept empty for the unexpected guest, but she hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, figuring they were just chatting. And so, not having eaten much yet that day, she had gone off to try to find something that was at least a little bit appetizing. She hadn’t felt particularly hungry since the incident in Lagos.

Wanda’s heart was pounding as she half ran down the compounds twists and turns. As she grew closer to where she had last seen Vision, she began to feel as if an invisible force was guiding her, and her hope that her brother was somehow alive again resurged within her.

Why shouldn’t it be possible that Pietro was alive once more? Wasn’t the existence of their powers alone evidence that impossible things were possible? And Wanda already knew there were other Worlds out there by evidence of the Scepter, which had given her and her brother powers, so why couldn’t one of those worlds be where people went when they died? If that was the case, then of course Pietro would do everything in his power to come back to her, and perhaps, he had finally managed it.

Relying on the feeling that was guiding her, Wanda eventually came to a stop outside a closed door that led to a room that as far as she knew was normally empty. It was actually one of the rooms that had been offered to her when she had joined the Avengers, but ultimately Wanda had gone with a different, smaller one, since she figured now most of her time would be spent alone, she didn’t need the extra space.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda reached out to grab the door’s handle when suddenly Vision came gliding through the closed door, unconcerned by the traditional limitations of physics. 

“Don’t do that!” Wanda said a little more gruffly than she intended as she jumped back in surprise. “Really, we just went over this.”

“My sincerest apologies.” Replied Vision. “I just heard someone coming, and for some reason I thought it might be you.”

“Oh? Well…It’s alright…but if you could just step aside, I was just going to….” said Wanda trying to edge around Vision.

“I am sorry Wanda, but I cannot allow you to enter this room. Perhaps you’d care to take a stroll outside instead? I did earlier, and I can contest that it is quite a lovely day.” Replied Vision with a hopeful look as he remained firmly placed in front of the door.

“Vision…step aside. One way or another I am getting into that room. You cannot guard it forever, and even if you could, do you really want me to try to force my way in?” asked Wanda her Sovokian accent becoming thicker as her impatience grew.

“I do not know what you have been told Wanda, but there is only one reason that you would have any interest in going in this room, you overheard something that you do not truly understand….I’m afraid I have to tell you, the boy is not your brother. Your brother is at peace.” Said Vision giving Wanda an imploring look.

“I will be the judge of that, and if he is not, then there is no harm in me seeing for myself. I have to know for sure, Vision. I have to…” said Wanda, feeling her eyes begin to tear up. Maybe Vision was right. He wouldn’t lie to her. His heart was too good for that, but she had to see with her own eyes.

Vision gazed at Wanda for a moment longer with his unnaturally green eyes. “Very well.” Said Vision stepping aside and opening the door to allow Wanda to enter. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Wanda stepped through the doorway, her heart hammering once more as she looked around the room.

There were two beds inside, on one lay a young teenage girl with auburn hair, but that was about all Wanda took care to notice as her eyes wandered over to the next bed. 

Her heart leapt for the briefest of moments as her eyes registered the presence of a figure with unnaturally colored hair, but after the briefest of seconds, her heart was filled with despair once more. Vision was right. Her brother wasn’t here. 

Wanda felt tears threatening to spill over again, but she forced them away. The figure on the second bed might not be her brother, but there was something peculiar about him, something that reminded her of the boy she’d grown up with, for the unconscious individual was still a boy. 

Wanda slowly approached the boy’s bed. As she drew closer she could see that the boy’s hair was silver, not very close in color to the bleached looking white hair Pietro had developed after he’d gained his powers…but still…the hair color couldn’t be a coincidence. Most boys didn’t go around dying their hair, and she figured that the ones who did, didn’t typically dye their eyebrows to match their rebel hair color. 

Wanda continued to stare down at the boy. She didn’t know why. He obviously wasn’t her brother. He was just a kid, still clean-shaven, unlike her brother. In fact, the boy probably didn’t even need to shave yet. He was also shorter and much thinner than her brother, and probably still had a couple good inches of growing left to do, as he had a wiry almost gaunt look, much different than her brother who though trim was still quite muscular. 

Wanda felt her lip twitch in an echo of a smile as she took in the boy’s outfit. Even though she’d forgiven him for his past actions, Wanda was rather glad the boy seemed to favor Captain America over Iron man. Then there was the boy’s jacket. Though she often thought her brother had questionable style choices, favoring tight fitting running shirts and outdated tracksuits, she was fairly certain he would have found the silver jacket the boy was wearing ridiculous, though Wanda herself rather liked it. 

Lost in her thoughts, Wanda reached out to touch the jacket’s metallic material, when suddenly the boy’s eyes shot open, and Wanda found herself staring into eyes much different from her brother’s blue ones. They were the darkest eyes she had ever seen, and they were filled with fear.

Before Wanda had time to say anything or reassure the boy that she didn’t mean to startle him, a voice behind her shouted “Get away from him!” 

Wanda turned just fast enough to see that the girl that occupied the other bed was now standing up and her hands were glowing with red energy that was all too familiar, before that red energy came hurtling toward her. 

Wanda instinctively threw her hands up, calling on her own psionic energy, which blocked the foreign red energy. Wanda gazed at her hands a moment before lowering them back down to her sides. Meanwhile, the boy must have managed to overcome his fear because in that instant there was a blur, a fwhip noise, and suddenly the boy was on the other side of the room standing for a right by the girl; then he began to wobble before the girl managed to steady him and keep him on his feet.

“Pietro?” Wanda blurted out. She didn’t mean to say her brother’s name, it just slipped out. But when the boy had somehow managed to make it across the room so inhumanely fast using what could only be super speed, the first thing she thought of was her brother. At the same time, Wanda realized why the boy had stumbled when he reached the other side of the room. He had what looked to be a homemade cast on his left leg. She had failed to notice it before as she had been too distracted by his unique hair color and iridescent jacket. 

The girl seemed momentarily stunned that her energy blast had no affect on Wanda, but she quickly recovered, addressing Wanda in seemingly calm manner, which contrasted greatly to the fury filled protectiveness she had displayed moments before. “Who are you and where are we?” the girl demanded.

“I—I…You’re in…” Wanda couldn’t manage to find the words to answer the girl’s questions. She was too focused on the silver haired boy the girl was supporting and trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had seem him display the power her brother had once possessed. 

Wanda looked at the boy’s eyes; this time purposefully. Now that he was standing by the girl, the boy’s eyes didn’t seem to be filled with the terror that had been there when he had first awoken, and maybe she was just imagining it, but behind those eyes it seemed to Wanda that his brain was moving at a hundred miles a minute or faster, analyzing everything in the room, while also appearing like he wished very much that he could grab the girl and run away, which unfortunately for him was an impossibility due to the current condition of his leg. 

As Wanda once more tried to form a coherent sentence, she noticed that the girl was eyeing the door behind her, obviously calculating whether she should wait for an answer or try to make a break for it and maneuver herself and the boy past Wanda, even while knowing her power seemed to be ineffective on Wanda. 

Just when Wanda was sure the girl would try to blast her again and make a move toward the door, Vision—who until presently had remained outside to give Wanda some privacy—entered the room behind Wanda, once again not bothering to use the door.

At his sudden entry, the boy and the girl’s eyes darted over to him in unison, but it was Vision who spoke first, “Please children, remain calm. You are in no danger. I am glad you have awoken. Are you experiencing any pain? Or are you hungry or thirsty? I can have some food and beverages brought in for you. Do you have any food allergies? Perhaps you would enjoy some that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? I have learned that they are a staple childhood snack, but it seems many children today have an aversion to peanuts.”

This introduction, based on the kids’ behavior, was definitely not what they had been expecting to encounter when they woke up in a strange place. Wanda looked at the girl again, assuming she would be the one to answer being that the boy had yet to speak, but she had a look of utter disbelief on her face, as if she didn’t know how to respond to such an ordinary, but rather odd, first impression. 

Wanda’s gaze abruptly switched back to the boy as he spoke for the first time in a quick concise succession of words, completely ignoring Vision’s questions. “Where’sOur—Where’sErik?” 

The boy’s voice sounded slightly strained, as if it had been awhile since he’d used it, but despite the fact that his young voice was decidedly American and contained no hint of a Sovokian accent, for some reason the hint of fear, worry, and edginess still tugged at Wanda’s heart.

“Your father is being held in a secure location until it can be determined whether or not he is fit for custody.” Answered Vision matter-of-factly.

“What? Who are you to make that decision?” the girl replied, still sounding stunned that that they were actually having this conversation, and no one was attacking them.

“My sincerest apologies. Introductions are indeed in order. We have already been informed as to your names…Wanda and Pietro. My name is Vision, and you are in the home base of enhanced individuals much like yourselves and your father. As you, young sir,” said Vision nodding at the boy, “had the remains of some troubling injuries, my fellow teammates found it necessary to converse with your father as to what led to those injuries. He has stated that none of your injuries were his doing, but rather from a group of malicious individuals who kept you prisoner. Will you attest to his version of events? You need not be afraid to speak out against him if he has caused you injury. We will not let further harm befall you again or your sister by his hand or that of another’s.”

Though Vision was mainly addressing the boy, it was the girl—with her fist clenched tightly at her sides—who responded this time, “We’re not afraid of Erik. Sure, he might not be getting a father of the year award anytime soon, but he didn’t hurt Pete. He would never hurt him, or either of us for that matter.” 

Vision gave the girl a thoughtful look that held a hint of concern, “Not that I do not trust your word, but I need confirmation from your brother all the same.” Finished Vision turning his head slightly to make eye contact with the boy.

(Pietro? Pete?) Wanda still wasn’t sure what to call him….or how to think of him. She especially didn’t want to dwell on what it might mean that the girl’s name was also Wanda, so she focused her attention back on the boy. He looked rather uncomfortable and very fidgety as all the eyes in the room turned to him. The kid looked as though he still wanted to take off running, but in the end he did speak, “ErikDidn’tDoThis. WhatHeSaidWasTheTruth. HeReallyWouldNeverHurtMeOrWanda. He’sTheReasonI’mStillAlive.He’sNotAbusive. And—AndI’mGladHe’sMyDad. WhereAreYouKeepingHim?SeriouslyWhyDoesThisKeepHappening. IT’sLikeThe21stCenturyNowRight?Shouldn’tEverythingBeCivilizedByNow?WhyDoPeopleThinkIt’sOkayToGoAroundKidnappingOtherPeople?JustJustTakeUsToErikOr…Or…IGuarenteeHe’llEventuallyFindUsAndYou’reNotGonnaLikeWhatHappens.” The boy finished in a rush. All of his words flew together as he spoke, and even though Wanda wasn’t involved in bringing him and his sister to the Avenger’s compound, his words made her feel guilty nonetheless. But Wanda also couldn’t help notice that his quick manner of speaking him suited him very well, but for some reason she felt that his voice would sound more natural offering a quick sarcastic quip, rather than the pained dejected remarks he had just relayed.

Vision studied the boy with his inquisitive gaze, and Wanda could tell he felt a great deal of compassion for the kids. Even if Vision knew more about this boy and girl than Wanda, she guessed he didn’t know their whole story, but it was impossible not to feel like you wanted to make everything okay for them…for him…for Pietro…

“They’re telling the truth Vision.” Said Wanda speaking up for the first time since the kids had woken up, and earning some surprised looks as everyone turned to face her. She figured that on some level they’d all sort of forgotten that she was in the room too, since she had been so quiet, and they’d been focused on Vision since he was in front of the door.

“They’re father isn’t abusing them, Vision.” Continued Wanda who received rather confused looks from the kids who probably wondered why she was substantiating their words. 

“How do you know?” asked Vision, not accusatorily, but in a genuinely curious tone.

“Because I remember what it’s like to have a father who loves you and who you know will keep you safe from monsters and all the horrors of the world until the day he dies. That’s who this Erik is to them. I can see it.” 

This statement garnered more confused looks from the teens. “I’m sorry, but who even are you?” the girl asked in rather critical tone of voice.

“Oh my apologies again. This is Miss Wa—” 

“Wilma.” said Wanda cutting Vision off as he looked at her. She could sense that despite his attempted introduction he could understand why she didn’t want the kids to know her name was Wanda too, not after they had already seen that she was virtually unaffected by the girl’s powers. It was all just too weird, and that was saying something considering Wanda basically had super powers, as did many of the people she now considered friends. Wanda also didn’t want to give the teens any reason not to trust her, and maybe them knowing she shared the same name with the girl wouldn’t make them distrust her, and maybe it would. She just wasn’t prepared to take that chance. Wanda had a feeling if the girl found out about her and her own brother Pietro, she’d feel possessive of her brother, and Wanda—no matter the differences between her brother and this Pietro—couldn’t help but want to know him, to protect him, to watch him have a long happy life that her brother would never have.

(He’s not my brother…but he’s not unlike my brother…maybe Pietro really does live on in this boy…but then how do I reconcile the existence of this other Wanda?)

“Are you guys mutants too?” asked the boy at a slightly slower rate than he had spoken before, leaning forward a little past his sister who while supporting him was also not so subtlety attempting to also stand in front of him as if to protect him. Then he abruptly leaned back again, seemingly surprised by his own verbal prowess. 

“We’re different if that’s what you mean.” said Wanda/Wilma. 

“Mutant is the name for those in their universe who have capabilities beyond those of the normal human physiology.” Said Vision chiming in. “I was just familiarizing myself with their background and world in the hallway via my mobile device, as Agent Hill sent the recording of their father’s interview and their genetic profile to me.”

“Our what?” asked the other Wanda angrily as her hands flared red again. “We are not some lab rats to be studied!” 

“Of course not. Your genetic material was primarily gathered to verify your father’s parentage.” stated Vision politely. 

“That doesn’t make it okay!” continued the other Wanda her voice growing louder “You can’t just knock people out and drag them off to God knows where, and then analyze them!” the girl finished throwing her hands up in fury and as she did so, a wave of red sparks cascaded toward Vision and Wanda. 

Reacting on instinct, Wanda threw out her own surge of energy which crashed into the girl’s causing a crackling noise and a small shock wave, which blew everyone’s hair—well those who had hair—back briefly.

There was a moment of silence before the girl looking at Wanda asked again, “Who are you?”

Wanda didn’t know what to say. The other Wanda wasn’t looking at her so much in anger anymore, but rather in awe. 

Wanda didn’t know how to answer her. This other version of herself…for it had become obvious that they were similar too, and though there was a definite age difference between them along with the physical differences that caused, they did look slightly similar, much more similar than her own brother and this new Pietro. The girl’s hair was more red than her own brown, and her eyes were also a darker brown, but they had a similar facial bone structure. Yet, their connection disturbed her in a way that the existence of this other Pietro did not. It was one thing to see your brother perhaps reincarnated in some way, but completely another to face an incarnation of yourself. 

Finally, Wanda made up her mind as to how to respond, “I am like you, so believe me…believe us, when I say, we truly do mean you no harm. I’m sorry you were forced to come here like this, but I think now you can see your father, and then…”

And then what? Wanda didn’t know. She didn’t want them to go…well she didn’t want the boy to go. She wasn’t entirely keen on spending time with the girl. Though maybe that would change. There was no one on this earth who truly understood her, but maybe this girl would be that one person.

(But how could she be? She is still a child. She has not seen what I have seen, nor done the things I have done.)

Vision interrupted her thoughts. “I’m afraid we actually have a meeting to attend. Your reunion will have to be postponed temporarily until we have time to speak with the other Avengers—that is what we call ourselves—and go through the necessary protocols before you see Erik. Wilma, why don’t you head over to the conference room, and I will watch the children.”

“How about no, Vision. You’re going to take us to Erik, now.” Said the younger Wanda with an air of authority that made her seem much larger than her small frame suggested. 

“Miss Maximoff, I assure you, barring any extraneous circumstances or new revelations, you will both see your father later—” 

“I’ll take them to him,” said Wanda jumping in. “Just tell me where he’s being held.”

“Wilma, we must stand united. One person cannot make decisions that affect the whole, and—” 

“Okay. Then I will stay with them. You can go to the meeting.” Said Wanda. She tried to convince herself that she was just being helpful, but in reality, she knew the only reason she had volunteered for the task as supervising teenagers was because she wanted to stay in the boy’s presence longer.

“Wilma…Secretary Ross will expect you to be present in the meeting due to…recent events. Your absence will not reflect well.” Said Vision in a calm soothing voice that held maybe a touch of pity “My presence at the meeting though expected, is not absolutely necessary. I will have Tony inform Secretary Ross that I am needed elsewhere, and he will relay the content discussed at the meeting to me promptly. I have a feeling it will not taking much persuading to get Secretary Ross to accept my absence. Though I do not think it is his intent, I feel he has difficulty seeing me as my own person separate from Mr. Stark, rather than one of his robots.”

“That’s it. You two don’t get to make decisions for us. And you cannot hold us here!” shouted the girl raising her right arm with what appeared to be the intent to blast her way from the room despite her recent failed attempts to use her powers successfully.

“Wait Wanda.” said the young silver-haired Pietro unexpectedly, grabbing his sister’s arm with his hand, and taking a deep breath as if to psyche himself up to speak. “It’s okay…I think they’re being sincere. The Green Lantern here is maybe a bit of a goody-two shoes and a tad condescending, but I mean, we’re not being tortured or whatever. Heck, he offered us PB&J, which kinda sounds good by the way.” Said Pietro giving Vision a pointed look. “Though I almost want to refuse the offer on principle because I think it might reinforce these guys’ belief that we’re kids and not extremely mature young adults…and well, they’re obviously like us. I mean this Visioin guy makes me look normal, and the chick’s got freaky cool powers like yours. That’s gotta count for something right? I want to see Da—Erik too, but do we really have to fight? I’m tired of people thinking they can just get their way by force, people getting hurt, and…I’m just tired. I can’t run us out of here right now either, so can’t we just give them the benefit of the doubt, and wait it out? If anything goes wrong, Erik will find us. He found me before.” The boy gave his sister a pleading look.

His sister gave him a long sympathetic look that also seemed to hold a fair amount of guilt that the older Wanda didn’t quite understand, before responding, “Okay, Pietro. We’ll wait…for now; see if they really do keep their word.”

“For one so young, you are very wise, Pietro.” Said Vision in genuine admiration.

“Uh thanks. But it’s Peter. We’re still not like friends dude.” Answered Pietr—Peter, Wanda corrected herself. Maybe it would be easier for her, if she started thinking of him as Peter and not Pietro. It might help her separate him from her brother because he wasn’t her Pietro. He wasn’t her older twin brother, but she couldn’t help but already think of him like a little brother.

“My apologies, Peter.” Said Vision with sincerity.

“Are you British, man? You’ve got the accent down to a T, and you’re all proper and what not.” Said Peter. He seemed to be growing more assure of himself, now that his sister had calmed down and everyone was behaving cordial. 

Vision chuckled softly, “I’m not British exactly, though you are correct my vocal inflection originates from there. I like to think I have my own unique nationality.”

Peter raised one eyebrow. “Okay. You’re officially weirder than us dude, and by the way, that walking though the wall thing you did earlier, you’ve gotta teach me that. That’d be friggin’ useful.”

Vision gave the boy another smile. “I am afraid that is not a skill I can teach, but I imagine your skills are just as impressive as mine without adding to them. Now, if you would please follow me, Wanda and Peter, we can wait out the duration of the meeting in the Avenger’s private quarters. Our rec hall contains a plethora of leisure items that will help you pass the time. Wilma, you need to head to the meeting now, or Secretary Ross may send out people to look for you.” Finished Vision holding open the door for Wanda, who slowly walked toward it.

Wanda glanced back at the teenagers still in the room, her eyes lingering on Peter. The boy looked a little uncomfortable under her gaze and whispered something in his sister’s ear. Regretting that she made him feel uncomfortable, Wanda quickly looked away, but she would take the uncomfortable look over the one of pure terror he had given her when he’d first awoken.

“They’ll be fine, Wanda. He’ll be fine.” Vision stated quietly so only she could hear.

Speaking just as quietly, Wanda replied “But…what if they try to fight you to go find their father and…” and then they leave. Wanda left the sentence unfinished. What if she never saw the boy again. The boy who somehow already made her feel like she had a family once more. 

“I don’t think they will, Wanda. You heard the boy. I think he’s seen enough violence to want to avoid it if at all possible, and his sister just wants him to be happy. She won’t do anything to upset him. As long as they don’t feel threatened, I believe they will wait a few more hours before they do anything impulsive. And I can tell the girl is curious about you. She was in awe at how you controlled and used your powers so effectively while remaining calm and without drawing off of anger. You will see them again, Wanda. You will see him again.” Said Vision placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

With that, Wanda gave one last glance at the room’s young occupants before heading off to join the rest of the Avenger’s at their meeting, wondering how she would be able to focus on anything that was covered in the meeting, now that this world once again held a speedster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it doesn’t seem like too drastic of a jump with Pietro once again being semi-vocal. The state of his recovery is clear in my head, but I’ll probably write the next chapter at least partly from his pov, so his feelings are more apparent to all. I’m never really sure who’s pov I’m going to write from until I start outlining the chapter. Also, details about Captain America: Civil War may change for the purpose of the story, such as Vision not attending the meeting with Secretary Ross.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have someone else’s pov in this chapter besides Pietro's, but his thoughts and feelings just kept flowing. Thanks to all the readers out there who keep coming back to this story. Please keep the reviews coming. They are inspiring and helpful, and I appreciate every single one.

PIETRO POV

Pietro really wished he had this cast off of his leg. It was super annoying. It itched, and it made him feel powerless. He could barely manage to hop across the length of a room on his good leg in super speed without losing his balance, which was largely why he’d convinced Wanda to just chill for a few hours before they went blasting their way out of the Avengers’ clubhouse or whatever it was called to find Erik.

Yea he wanted to find Erik, his dad, but he didn’t want to find Erik at his sister’s expense. He knew she thought she could protect them both, and that it was her job to do so, but the truth was, she still didn’t really have a good handle on her powers, despite probably having trained with Erik while Pietro was…away. They hadn’t really had time to discuss what she’d been doing or where she’d been for the the months he’d been gone, or the year she’d been gone for that matter, with ya know being kidnapped again and everything. 

More importantly though, besides the fact that her powers were unpredictable at best, he couldn’t watch his sister fight her way out of this place, and possibly get hurt in the process while he stood idly by like a damsel in distress in all those chick flick movies his aunt liked so much.

(That she used to like…)

Pietro felt stabbing pain of sadness coarse through his body at that thought. He’d never get to argue with his aunt about what movie they would watch on family night again. As the only guy in a house filled with girls, it was something he used to do often.

Pietro pulled his thoughts back to the present. He was beginning to find that it was a lot easier to function and sorta feel like his old self when he only focused on the here and now, which was a lot easier to do when he had something to focus on, so it had actually been quite a relief when the English/not-English dude had delivered on his promise that the Avengers’ personal quarters would be filled with ‘a plethora of leisure items,’ including but not limited to a pool table, a sweet futuristic—or on second thought maybe just presentistic—giant television, gaming consoles beyond Pietro’s wildest dreams, a foosball table, musical instruments, and lots of random books, which he thought under other circumstances his sister would greatly appreciate.

Currently though, Wanda was still too pissed off to care about living up to her usual bookworm tendencies. Heck maybe she didn’t even like books anymore. It had been more than a year since he spent an extended period of time with her. Her interests could have changed, but he liked to think she hadn’t changed too much. Not like him anyway. She was still his twin. His better half. Good old Wanda. 

But Wanda still being Wanda meant she could be a force to reckon with when she got mad, so he was a tad worried for the sake of this Vision guy that he’d do something to annoy her further. Back when he and Wanda were little kids, even before she got her powers, Pietro tended to run away whenever he pissed her off. She could be pretty intimidating even as a kid, and it was thanks to Wanda that he wasn’t picked on more by bullies for looking abnormal. If back then he would’ve known they were both going to develop powers, he would’ve guessed hers would have been the ability to shoot fire out of her eyes because when it came to throwing shade, she was a pro.

(But hey, her eyes do get all red when she uses her power, so I’d call that not-guess half-right.)

Fortunately, Wanda wasn’t angry at him, not that he wanted her to be. Though, once their lives got back to whatever could be considered normal for them, he was going to have to start bugging her again, so she would stop treating him like he was going to break. 

First of all, even though Erik had adamantly tried to convince Pietro that he was not damaged, Pietro knew he was indeed broken, so further breakage wouldn’t really be a problem. Hell he’d been damaged ever since Bryan had gotten ahold of him, though he liked to think he had done a pretty good job of recovering from that childhood trauma. Getting powers helped, you know after he adjusted to the shock of living in a world that was now much slower than him, not to mention all the troubles that came with being even more abnormal. Come to think of it, maybe the mutant powers hadn’t really helped him recover…but he’d had Wanda, Mila, and Marya, so that was nice. Second, they were twins, so they should have each other’s back equally. His sister shouldn’t literally be acting as his human shield. Yea, he’d noticed how she’d tried to physically plant herself in front of him when they’d first met Vision and ‘Wilma.’

Pffft. Like he really believed that girl’s name was Wilma. He might not be able to run all out at super speed right now, but he could still perceive the world a lot faster than anybody else, and that meant he noticed when the multi-colored man started to say a wa sound, not a wi sound. But whatever, he didn’t really care to solve that mystery at the moment.

Honestly, the Wilma girl, woman, chick, young lady? Pietro was never really quite sure how to refer to adults who were technically adults ‘cuz they were obviously older than 18, but who were probably more like adult cats. Like, someone should probably take care of them, but they also could sorta make it on their own.* Anyway, the ‘Wilma’ girl freaked him out. Not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you kinda way’, but more like how he probably freaked out other people just by existing. She just kept staring at him the whole time she was in the room with them, which was kinda creepy. 

Feeling a little uncomfortable though was a lot better than the embarrassing amount of fear he felt when he first woke up. Okay, so maybe he had a good reason to be afraid, since he now probably has PTSD to add to his ADHD.

(Pretty soon I’ll have a whole alphabet of disorders. At least kleptomania doesn’t have an acronym.)

But it was still pretty unmanly of him to go running to his sister when he woke up in an unfamiliar place. At least when he woke up this time, he just sorta ‘woke up’ from a dreamless sleep. He wasn’t wrenched out of a nightmare or anything, so once he was able to comprehend that he wasn’t strapped down, handcuffed, didn’t have a shock collar on, or have people poking and prodding him with knives and needles, he was able to calm himself down for the most part.

Still, he was fairly surprised with himself that he had eventually mustered up the courage to speak when their new hosts’ had put him on the spot, since he’d basically been mindless zombie for the past two weeks. 

Pietro wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt content enough to speak under the unexpected and unknown circumstances, but for some reason—despite the girl’s borderline stalker stares—he just had a sense that ‘Wilma’ and Vision really were being sincere that they had Wanda and his best interest at heart, though they couldn’t have been more wrong about Erik being abusive. 

It was still weird to think that the he was ever scared of the dude. Of course, the guy could be freaking scary, so Pietro didn’t really feel to bad about once being frightened of Erik, but that was before he knew he was his dad and before he knew just how great a dad he could be, despite his extracurricular terrorist-like tendencies.

So in his opinion, Vision and ‘Wilma’ seemed alright, though Wanda was obviously still skeptical, yet Wanda did seem pretty interested in knowing more about the ‘Wilma’ girl’s powers, since they seemed to be so much like her own. That didn’t stop Wanda from being suspicious of the whole situation or get her out of big sister mode though. Pietro guessed the difference for him and Wanda was that she still thought they were being kept prisoner, and maybe they sort of were, but at least they were being treated like human beings.

Nobody was threatening them, torturing them, or emotionally scarring them for life, and since none of that was happening, Pietro counted it to be a good day, whereas Wanda, didn’t have that sort of reference point, so he didn’t blame her for her anger. If he hadn’t gone through what he had then he might be just as angry as his sister right now. He probably would’ve been a lot more ticked off if this had happened three or so more months ago—or would it had to have happened more than 40 years ago?—time travel was trippy.

It was actually kinda funny. If a normal person would’ve woken up in an unfamiliar place and been greeted by a girl who could generate red energy out of nowhere and a multi-colored person who could walk through walls they probably would’ve been scared out of their wits, but Pietro wasn’t normal, so once he had his bearings about him, he was like okay, maybe this situation isn’t so bad. 

‘Wilma’ and Vision were different, like him and Wanda, which was comforting. After all, it was group of ‘normal’ people that had kidnapped Pietro the first time, so freaks of nature like himself and Wanda just didn’t seem so terrifying to him. Plus, one of the first things they offered them was food, which put them in his good books right off the bat because the last time he’d been prisoner, one of his captor’s favorite forms of torture happened to be slow starvation.

So yeah, despite his mild protests that it was kids’ food, Pietro still ate like six PB&J sandwiches. Plus, Vision had also given them a large supply of double-stuffed Oreos. Though Twinkies were still Pietro’s favorite, he still thought double-stuffed Oreos just might be the greatest invention of 2015, though according to Vision they’d been around since 1975, which meant he’d still have to wait almost two years to enjoy them if they ever got back to their own universe. 

Vision had also tried to get him to eat something a little healthier, like carrots and broccoli, citing that ‘adolescents should have a balanced diet.’ Wanda had grudgingly accepted the veggies with her sandwich as she was never much of a sweet eater, at least not as much as Pietro, and in addition to being angry, Pietro could tell she was also hangry, so she wasn’t about to turn down food. But Pietro had passed on the veggies. He wasn’t really in the mood, though he had made Vision pretty happy when he’d chosen to drink a few glasses of milk with his sandwiches and Oreos because ya know ‘calcium is good for young growing bones.’

Neither Wanda nor Pietro had done much talking while they were eating since they were both pretty ravenous, though his hunger was nothing compared to what it had been in his other period of internment. Plus, peanut butter just makes it difficult to speak, but once Wanda had satisfied her hunger she had been able to focus on her pissedoffness again, which made her pretty talkative. 

She’d asked about Erik again, probably more for Pietro’s sake than her own. It was odd, though Wanda had probably cumulatively spent more time with their father than Pietro, he didn’t think she felt quite a connection to him as Pietro did. Maybe it was a guy thing, or maybe it was just because growing up, Wanda had never really cared who their father was, whereas Pietro had been sort of obsessed with imagining who he might be.

Vision had basically and very politely repeated what he’d already told them, that Erik was elsewhere in the facility and not to worry and relayed to them that though Erik had some disagreements with one of Vision’s other teammates—the metal guy, or Iron Man, or Tony Stark, or whatever Vision wanted to call him that came to Al’s farm, Pietro didn’t really know how metal guy could’ve won an argument against Magneto but whatever—he was being treated well and they would be reunited soon.

Then Wanda had moved on to asking about the ‘Wilma’s’ girls powers, which Vision had not been very forthcoming about, but he had shared that she wasn’t born with her powers but had received them through experimentation after volunteering to help a group that turned out to be not such a great group. Pietro had shuddered at the thought of that. Experimentation was not on his list of a good time. 

Wanda had also wanted to watch the news to find out what was going on in this world and possibly more about these Avengers, but Vision hadn’t let them, saying there was some sensitive information about one of his teammates currently being broadcast, and he felt it would be better if she told them about it in her own due time. 

Exasperated and still angry, Wanda had wanted to protest some more, but after a look from Pietro, she had acquiesced and asked to call Al, which Vision had allowed. Wanda did the talking, since Pietro didn’t really know the guy all that well, being basically catatonic the whole time he’d been at the man’s farm, but he had managed a quick hello. 

Though they obviously didn’t know their exact location, Al was happy to hear from them and really glad that they were okay. He wanted them to call him again as soon as they could, especially if they weren’t reunited with their father soon. The farmer also said to make sure not to take any shit from anyone, be on guard, and keep him updated. 

After that Wanda had gone on to pacing around the large room because though they were being treated well, his sister never liked people to be in control of her life, which he got and felt the same way basically, but since he was with his sister, he was fairly content. He’d practically be happy when Erik was with them too, and if Mila were here.

Once Wanda finished her interrogation of Vision, Pietro surprisingly realized he felt comfortable enough to talk to the guy too, so while fooling around with some of the available video games, he pestered Vision with his own questions, once it became officially apparent that Vision was wholly set on waiting until the rest of his ‘team’ clarified that it was alright for them to see Erik. 

So because Pietro was curious and now that he was talking he hadn’t fully got back into the habit of censoring what he said out loud—though he’d never been great at that—he started up what would probably would be considered a rude conversation, “soooo have you always been Christmas colored?”

Vision chuckled and replied, “yes, since I was born…which was about a year ago.”

“Dude, that’s weird, so were you born all adultish or do just age really fast? That’d be super sucky. Rapid puberty sounds awful, or maybe it would be better to get over with fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. And what’s with the stone on your forehead? Does it do something or is it just like for decoration?” asked Pietro. 

“I was more created than born.” Said Vision seemingly not caring or feeling that Pietro was being rude, “but to answer your first question, I was born fully matured and this” said Vision pointing to the golden gem in his forehead, “is called a Mind Stone. It is what gave me life.”

“Wait is it like the Sorcerer’s stone? Was Nicolas Flamel like a real person in this universe and not just a myth?”

“No, it’s not the sorcerer’s stone. That is a fictional artifact. I honestly don’t really know what it is. Not really. I know it’s not of this world, but it’s true nature is a mystery. And yet, it is part of me.” 

“That’s okay dude. I didn’t know who my dad was until recently either….Though your parents basically being a rock is sorta messed up, but also sorta awesome, so whatever. Hey! I just realized. This means I’m older than you man, plus I’m from 1973 so I’m waaaaay older than you. Just saying. You can’t keep referring Wanda and me as children anymore.”

Vision gave Pietro an amused smile, “Though I don’t know much about it, I do know the stone is a very ancient artifact, perhaps existing since the very beginning of time. Therefore, technically speaking I am much older than you. Additionally, do not take this wrong way, but based on maturity level in terms of development and mental capacity, you are still very much an adolescent, despite your travel through time, whereas I am a fully matured adult.”

Pietro thought about this for a moment before responding, “pffft whatever. I still say I’m older.” To which Vision had just chuckled again.

The guy was actually a pretty cool dude, and Pietro didn’t seem to be annoying him at all, which was kind of insulting honestly. He is usually super good at annoying people. Not that he really wanted to annoy Vision. He seemed like he could be formidable if he wanted too, and he could walk through walls and fly, which Pietro had found out when Vision had gone searching through the highest kitchen cabinets to find the Oreos. 

But Pietro was pretty sure if Vision did get into a fight with someone the guy would feel pretty bad about it, and probably be giving advice about how to treat the injury at the same time he was fighting. Pietro could be imaging Vision being like, ‘punch’ you will need to ‘punch’ ice the affected area ‘punch’ until the swelling subsides. 

Lost in thought, Pietro didn’t realize Vision had started speaking again. “Sorry, what?” asked Pietro.

Patient as ever, Vision replied, “I said, our resident doctor here could look at your leg Peter. I don’t know how long ago your injuries occurred, but at the very least she could check on your injury. With your abilities, I would surmise that you may have accelerated healing too, so it could be time for the cast to come off, or at the very least she could put on a more well crafted cast or brace.”

“Yea…yea that’d be good, I guess. Thanks.” said Pietro after a moment. He didn’t very much like the idea of doctors anymore, but he knew that logically, they weren’t all evil and that most of them were probably really good people. Plus, if Vision trusted the doctor than she was probably alright or at least sane.

“Peter?” started Vision again.

“Hmm?”

“Do you know what the symbol on your shirt represents?”

Pietro looked down at the dark blue shirt he was wearing with its red and white concentric circles and a final blue circle containing a white star. “Uhhh. I don’t know. America? I just figured Al picked it up at some store that had leftover 4th of July memorabilia.”

Vision smiled at him. “In a way you are correct. It does represent America, but it also represents much more than that. It is a symbol of Captain America, or more precisely, his shield. The Captain, or Steve Rogers, is another one of the Avengers, and he is a gallant man. Like you and your sister and father, he is also not originally of this time. It is a long story, but he ended up frozen in time. He fought for his country back in World War II and gave many people hope, and he continues to do so today.”

“Huh.” Replied Pietro. This Captain America guy sounded like a cool dude, though Pietro was a little embarrassed that he was sporting a shirt that commemorated a guy who he hadn’t known anything about before a second ago and would probably end up meeting at some point since this Rogers guy was an Avenger, and they were in his home base and all. Oh well. He wasn’t about to ask Vision for a new shirt, especially if the dude fought against Nazis.

(I wonder if Dad would get along with the Captain guy. Maybe they’ll become best buds, and he won’t feel the need to make everyone here pay for kidnapping us…wishful thinking I suppose.)

It was fun to talk to and joke around with Vision. It had been so long since Pietro had had a lighthearted conversation. For a moment he almost felt like his old self…and then that moment ended.

Vision’s phone vibrated loudly, and Pietro flinched violently, causing his character, some plumber looking dude with overalls, a mustache, and red hat, to die in the video game he was playing. 

Ignoring the phone, Vision looked at Pietro full of concern. “Are you alright, Peter?”

Pietro took some deep breathes, forcibly suppressing memories of electrocution that had been brought to the surface when the phone had vibrated. “I’m—I’m good. It just surprised me is all.” 

Vision gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t say anything. “Who is it?” asked Wanda walking over to where the two were sitting. By the look she gave him, Pietro guessed she had noticed his little jump, but being the great sister that she was, she knew he didn’t want her to address it. And hey at least he hadn’t gone all comatose like he had with the electric clippers back at the farmhouse, so that was a plus.

“It’s agent Hill. She just sent a text message, which is an electronic communication in the form of text.” said Vision

“Yea that’s crazy that that’s possible nowadays, and you can carry a phone anywhere with you here, but since the communication is called a ‘text message,’ it seems pretty self-explanatory dude. Continue.” Said Pietro

“Ah yes, well she was just checking in on both of you. I think she feels rather guilty about incapacitating you earlier back on Mr. Walker’s farm, though I’m sure she believes it was for your own safety and the best course of action at the time.”

Though Wanda and Pietro never saw Agent Hill because, ya know she sorta took them by surprise. Pietro thought it was nice that she was at least trying to make amends. Wanda didn’t seem to care though saying “Well tell her we are just dandy, being confined here, while we wait for people to finish up at a very important meeting before we can see our father.” Her words dripped of sarcasm.

Vision looked like he was about to say something but he was interrupted as the doors to the large common area they were in slid open, and they all looked over to see who had arrived. In came a very large young muscled blonde man, who Pietro hadn’t seen before, but Pietro hardly paid him any attention because behind the man was Erik looking a little tired and stressed, but otherwise like his usual self, complete with his signature scowl.

Pietro didn’t think when he saw Erik beyond that he suddenly realized how much he had missed him and also how worried he was that the Avengers were hurting him, despite Vision seeming trustworthy and Pietro trying to appear outwardly unfazed by the whole situation. Part of him still thought the Avengers could have some hidden agenda, and intended to keep Wanda and him separated from Erik forever.

So again without a thought, Pietro shouted “Dad!” Then moving faster than anyone else in the room could perceive, Pietro managed to hop/run across the room, since the crutches the Avengers had supplied were out of reach. He pummeled into Erik, half because he was just so happy to see him and half because he couldn’t really run at super speed and balance at the same-time. Reaching Erik, Pietro crashed into his father, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I did not come up with this little comparison. I think it’s a meme, so thank you for that internet.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this story has received over 200 kudos. Like, wow! Thanks everyone! I just want to give fair warning to everyone who is following this story that although I will keep trying to pump out chapters fairly regularly this summer (I apologize, I am an agonizingly slow writer), come August, I will likely not be able to update, except perhaps around the holidays. We will see. I will be entering a new stage in my life, and I have been informed that I will have zero to negative free time, so that’s fun. Also, from here on out, though there’s not really major spoilers in this chapter, just assume that there will be spoilers for Captain America Civil War. Enjoy!

_Recap: Reaching Erik, Pietro crashed into his father, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug._

* * *

 

ERIK POV

_A little while earlier…_

Erik liked to think that he was a very patient man—he had waited many years to kill Shaw after all—but in actuality, Erik did not like waiting, and he had been waiting hours in this godforsaken room, while other people decided when he would be able to see his children.  
Though Erik had learned never to be too trusting, Captain Rogers had seemed sincere enough when he’d said he’d be able to see his children once the Avenger’s had verified his story with Wanda and Pietro.

How long could that possibly take? Maybe Erik was losing his touch at reading people, or perhaps perhaps the Avenger’s had already spoken with Wanda and Pietro, and his children didn’t want to see him. Maybe they blamed him for their current situation. They wouldn’t be wrong. It really was his fault they were here. He should have taken out the obnoxious metal man as soon as he felt him approaching, but no, Erik had tried to be civil. He had tried to set a good example for his children. He had tried to do as Charles would. Fat lot of good that did.

But even if his children didn’t want to see him, Erik still had to know that they were okay, and being treated well. And he wouldn’t know that for sure until he saw Wanda and Pietro with his own eyes, in person, not through some screen.

Erik leaned forward placing his elbow’s on the table in front of him and clasping his hands behind the back of his head in pent up frustration. Despite his anger at the situation Erik had managed to behave himself, not that he could let out his anger in his usual way, being cut off from metal, but even if he could have, Erik wouldn’t have, unless he could be sure that he would escape and be able to find his children. He did not want his captors to take out his insubordination on his children.

Though the Avengers had made no such verbal threat against his children, Erik wasn’t taking any chances. He knew how cruel people could be.

Nevertheless, looking past his forced imprisonment, Erik had been treated well. He had been given a substantial amount of food and water, and he was brought a cot to rest on, though he had chosen not to use it. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway, not knowing where his kids were. But all of this gave him hope that his children were being treated well too. He hoped they weren’t too frightened or wondering why he hadn’t come for them.

There was a small electric click noise of a lock being disabled and Erik looked up from his seat to see the young blond captain walk into the room followed by a beautiful woman with shoulder length fiery red hair.

Besides the fact that both appeared a little grim, the two individuals were very different. Erik’s first impression of the woman was that she was someone he would want on his side in a fight. Despite her small stature, she gave the appearance of being a lethal individual, though Erik somehow guessed that she could give whatever appearance she wanted to. What’s more, without the woman even saying a word, Erik felt that she was a kindred spirit who had events in her past, which like Erik’s own past, she would rather forget.

Erik stood up as the man and woman entered. He was ready for anything. If Captain Rogers told him they weren’t going to allow him to see his children, he was going to do everything in his power to bust out of his prison. He didn’t care that the captain had easily tossed the man called Stark from the room and torn Erik’s own cuffs from the table as if it were no more difficult than breaking a toothpick. Nothing, _no one_ , was going to stop him from reaching his children. Not again.

“Mr. Maximoff, sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Good news, your kids confirmed your story, and they seem just as eager to see you as you are to see them.” said Steve turning toward the red haired woman, “This is Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, Erik Maximoff.”

“Pleasure.” said Natasha, her expression unchanged.

It seemed to Erik that Steve had made a noticeable effort to appear happy for Erik’s sake as he delivered the good news, and Erik wondered what was troubling the man. In contrast, besides her curt greeting, the woman remained impassive. She made no move to offer a hand shake, leaning casually against the wall next to the door.

Unlike most people who would probably have found this behavior as a personal affront, Erik was not bothered by it. It seemed natural for her, and why should they shake hands? This wasn’t a dinner party. They weren’t friends.

“It’s Lensherr.” corrected Erik, and then a little quieter. “They have their mother’s name.”

Erik didn’t elaborate. He thought it was important to rectify the Captain’s error, but he didn’t need to share his entire life story with the man. He’d already told him enough. All they needed to know was that he wasn’t Mr. Maximoff, and his children weren’t Wanda and Pietro Lensherr.

He didn’t deserve to share a name with his children. He’d given up that right when he had missed out on the first 15 years of their lives. Besides, even if these people already knew beyond a doubt that Wanda and Pietro were his children, it was still better for everyone if he didn’t reinforce the connection. They were safer that way.

“Oh, errr…okay. My mistake.” Responded Steve.

Erik wondered if he made the man uncomfortable. If he was telling the truth about being around in the forties like Erik, then maybe the Captain wasn’t use to nontraditional families, and though Erik guessed Steve probably assumed Wanda and Pietro were born out of wed-lock—even though that wasn’t technically the case—Erik didn’t think the man would care either way. He seemed like a man who would care more about one’s wellbeing and happiness than any social expectations.

Hearing the name Maximoff out loud also brought back too many painful memories to let the mistake persist. The twins were already a constant—and while at times painful—reminder of Magda, they were also happier reminder of her, but hearing her last name come out of the mouth of someone who had never known her, who was still basically a stranger to Erik, felt wrong. It reminded Erik that he had left her, but even if he wasn’t there for Magda, in his heart he had always been married to her. Even though he wasn’t there like he should have been, he was still married to Magda when the twins were born. He was still married to Magda when she died. He would always be married to Magda, even though she had long since left this world.

“Shall we?” asked Natasha pulling Erik out of his thoughts, before heading out of the room after entering what Erik assumed to be a password into what Erik had learned from Al was this century’s version of a phone. The woman, Natasha, did not wait to see if Erik and Steve would follow, and Erik wondered if she trusted him not to attack her from beyond, or if she trusted the captain to have her back, or if she didn’t feel she needed protection at all. Erik reckoned it was the last option.

With Steve close behind, Erik stepped through the open door and then through the second set of doors, outside of which Natasha stood waiting.

As soon as Erik was through the second set of doors, he felt rejuvenated. He could feel all the metal in the building, and it calmed him. He felt as though he had been drowning without realizing it, and he had finally managed to get a breath of fresh air. To be connected with metal again, gave him a feeling of what he imagined it might be like to regain the ability to walk after having being paralyzed…

The memory of Charles being shot and falling onto the beach all those years ago along with a rush of guilt came to the forefront of Erik’s mind, but he quickly pushed it back again as he did with all of his regrets in life.

A new thought crossed Erik’s mind as he existed his cell.

_I could just kill them, and find Wanda and Pietro on my own. I know they are here somewhere._

But in the end, Erik chose not to act on the gruesome impulse. Yes, these people had locked him up, but they had also let him out again, with apparently no thought to their own safety, as they clearly knew he possessed superhuman abilities.

The hallway had harsher lighting than the room he had been in for hours, and it took a moment for Erik’s eyes to adjust. When they did, he realized Natasha and Steve hadn’t come alone after all, and Erik was instantly on guard as more dark thoughts came to his mind. But he didn’t attack. Despite what people might think, he didn’t kill without a purpose, and though these people had taken steps that had most certainly angered Erik, they hadn’t yet crossed the threshold of the doors of death.

In a way, like Schrodinger’s cat, these people were both dead and alive. Their ability to remain breathing all depended on the state of his children.

The metal man, _Tony_ , was one of the additional people in the hallway. The man’s arms were crossed. He looked pissed off, and also as though he needed a good night’s sleep.

There was also a taller African American man who looked a little more welcoming, but still alert. The third person in the hall was a young woman, with long brownish hair and dressed in a comfortable looking long sleeved black sweater, black skirt, and black boots. She looked like she was analyzing every part of Erik, as though looking for something recognizable in his features.

“Guys, I told you Natasha and I could handle it.” said Steve, though Erik could tell he wasn’t really that mad.

“Like you handled Lagos?” asked Tony brusquely.

“That was uncalled for Tony.” said Steve narrowing his eyes at the shorter man.

“Yea. Low blow, Stark.” said the black male.

Though the comment about Lagos meant nothing to Erik, by Steve’s tone and response, he could tell it touched a nerve but Steve pushed on, “Erik, you of course have already met Tony Stark, this is Sam Wilson, and this is “Wa—”

Erik didn’t hear the rest of what Steve said because as Erik’s gaze had been on Tony, then Sam, he hadn’t noticed the girl draw closer, she might have had metal on her person, but Erik’s senses seemed to be a little out of whack from having been without his powers for several hours, so when Erik looked over to where the girl had been standing as she was introduced, all he saw was a slender raised hand moving gracefully in front of his face. Then there was a flash of red that made him think of his daughter, before he saw the white walls of the hallway no more…

_Erik was twelve years old, entering Aushwitz then watching his mother being dragged away from him as he screamed and attempted to tear down the metal fence between them with a power he didn’t know he possessed._

_FLASH_

_Erik was terrified as a man calmly smiled at him while threatening to kill his mother if he did not move a coin. Then Erik was watching his mother die as he failed to complete the task and the man laughed with pure joy as Erik tore the room apart in his rage and killed everyone else in the vicinity with his newly manifested ability._

_FLASH_

_Erik was thrust forward in time again. Now, he was escaping Aushwitz with Magda amidst the chaos of a revolt, holding her hand as they ran toward freedom._

_FLASH_

_He was marrying Magda, and he was happier than he’d been in a long time, thinking maybe there was good left in the world after all._

_FLASH._

_Erik was holding his beautiful baby girl for the first time. His Anya._

_FLASH_

_He was holding his little girl again, except this time her body was lifeless, and a fire raged behind him, as he realized he was wrong, there wasn’t any good in the world after all._

_FLASH._

_He was the monster Shaw always wanted him to be, hunting Nazis across Europe._

_FLASH._

_He was under cold raging waves of ocean water trying desperately to stop a submarine from leaving, before a certain telepath was joining him, telling him he had to ‘let go.’_

_FLASH._

_He was training at Charles’ mansion, laughing with him after just having ‘encouraged’ a young and very much alive Sean to take his abilities to the skies._

_FLASH._

_He was on a beach in Cuba watching Charles clutch his back as he fell, almost as if in slow motion, to the ground, and as he fell, Erik realized the reason there was no good left in the world was because he would always wipe it out._

_FLASH._

_It was November 22, 1963. He was in Dallas trying and failing to save a man who could have made all the difference for mutants._

_FLASH._

_He was lying in a plastic prison far beneath the earth gazing up at a pale silver-haired boy who had a smirk on his face and an air of mischief in his eyes, wondering why he looked so familiar._

_FLASH._

_He was on his knees holding a hand against a bullet wound in his neck, gazing at Raven, waiting for her to deliver a final blow of death that never came but that he knew he deserved._

_FLASH._

_He was looking down at Marya’s dead bloodied body, fearing he’d lost his only son without ever having known him._

_FLASH._

_He was meeting his second daughter, just as beautiful as his first, regretting that it had taken him 15 years to do so._

_FLASH._

_He was cradling his son’s seemingly lifeless battered form to his chest hoping above all else that he would be alright as Wanda tore them from the universe._

_FLASH._

_He was listening to Pietro’s terror filled dreams, feeling entirely inadequate as a father._

_FLASH._

_He was holding the minuscule threat that was a metal man in the air before him, until there was a sting in his neck and he faded into blackness wondering how he continued to fail his children time and time again..._

The final scene faded, and for a second, Erik thought it was over but then he was living a memory that wasn’t his own…

_He was small, scared, and tired, trapped under debris, staring at a bomb labeled Stark. A small brown haired boy with fear in his eyes that mirrored Erik’s own feelings lay beside him._

_FLASH._

_He was screaming in rage at a protest along with many other youths. The young man beside him looked like the little boy with brown hair, except now he was all grown up and the fear had been replaced by anger._

_FLASH._

_He was volunteering for a program that would help his country._

_FLASH._

_He was in unimaginable pain. A bright blue light was awakening something inside of him. The young man with brown hair was on a table next to him, going through something similar, yet his hair was no longer brown. Now it was white._

_FLASH._

_He was listening intently to a striking figure that was much more than a robot, feeling hope that his home and the world would be changed for the better._

_FLASH._

_He was seeing the annihilation of the planet, wondering how he could have ever put so much trust in someone so evil._

_FLASH._

_He was fighting an army of robots with people who though once his enemies, were now his allies._

_FLASH._

_He was fighting the robots again, this time alone. Then, he was dying. He had to be dying. His heart was surely being torn from his chest, but no, he was still alive. It was the white haired boy who was dead. Falling to his knees, he let out a powerful surge of energy, destroying everything around him._

_FLASH._

_He was struggling to contain a bomb in a red orb of energy, before it became too much and he flung it upward, killing innocents and adding to a mountain of guilt to what he already carried and giving him one more reason why he should have died with the white haired boy..._

As quick as they began, the visions—though the word seemed inadequate, they were so much more than that—stopped. Erik found himself back in the pristine white-washed hallway, but he was no longer standing and the hallway wasn’t so pristine anymore.

Metal pipes had been torn out of and bent through the walls, causing a spray of water in some places where the plumbing had evidently been affected. There were some electronic devices shattered on the ground along the hall too, along with other random metal items. In all honesty, having just gone through what he did, it was a miracle the building had not collapsed on all of them, perhaps the only reason it hadn’t was because some part of his mind was able to hold on to the fact that his children were here somewhere.

On his knees, Erik also realized he had his head in his hands and he was breathing heavily. He could feel a fresh trail of tears on his face. As he lowered his hands, he saw that the young woman was in a similar state, though the man named Sam was helping her to her feet. Everyone else seemed to have been unaffected by whatever had just happened, but they were giving the girl concerned looks and glancing over at Erik too.

“What did you do to me?” asked Erik struggling to prevent his voice from cracking. He was still on his knees. He didn’t trust himself to stand just yet. He was reeling from being forced to relieve his past, and what he now presumed was the past of the girl.

“I—I’m sorry.” said the girl with an accent that was decidedly not American. “I didn’t mean to…I wanted to be sure you really weren’t hurting Piet—your kids, but your memories…they were, they were just...I couldn’t stop them…They were too…I’m sorry you had to live through that again…and—and my own memories.”

“You had no right to do that.” Fired back Erik his voice growing string, as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Steve tried to help him, but Erik shook him off.

“I know. I’m sorry…I can’t—”

“Wanda has been through a lot.” said Steve interjecting. “She can’t always control her powers, but I’m sure she meant no harm. Oh…I didn’t mean to spring that on you…the fact that this is Wanda Maximoff, of our universe that is…”

Erik replied shortly, “Yes. I figured that much out.” Whatever the girl had done, it was something only someone with as much power as his daughter could have performed, not to mention the fact that her memories had given him clues to her identity too.

There was silence in the hall. It seemed no one knew quite what to say, but Erik broke the silence. “That was your brother I saw…Pietro…He died.” It wasn’t a question, but Wanda answered anyway.

“Yes.”

Erik let that sink in for a moment before responding, “I’m sorry. I am, but my son is not your brother. He already has a twin sister. He doesn’t need your pain. He doesn’t need you.”

Erik wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was just stating the facts, and saying what needed to be said. Pietro had been through enough without this girl adding to his troubles and forcing him to fill a whole in the girl’s heart.

_She’s not my daughter. Not my Wanda. Her pain is not my problem._

The girl looked like she had been slapped in the face at Erik’s words, but she made no comment of protest to his decree.

Finally, after more silence and cold stares, Tony spoke, “Well now that everyone’s back with us and my favorite tablet is thoroughly destroyed, let’s get this reunion over with. Wanda, are you satisfied that this guy’s alright to see his kids?”

Wanda just nodded silently in response.

“Great. Let’s go.” said Tony marching off down the hall. “And somebody call maintenance to fix damage that spectacle caused.”

 

It took sometime to navigate through the Avenger’s compound. Though it was a large facility, they didn’t run into anyone. Erik guessed they had purposely cleared the path they were taking to Wanda and Pietro, incase Erik went rampant.

The group traveled mostly in silence, at least, no one talked to Erik, which was fine with him. He didn’t feel much like talking, not that he would to these people, but his memories were too fresh in his mind. It was as if he had lived his whole life all over again. All of his pain, guilt, and shame…and the girl’s…was once again fresh in his mind.

Finally, the group came to some closed sliding double doors. Stepping forward, Steve used his handprint to open the doors, before walking through them. Erik followed closely behind and he had only enough time to register that they were entering a very large open room before he heard a young familiar voice shout "Dad!" and a silver blur came crashing into his chest.

The impact very nearly caused him to lose his balance, but somehow he stayed on his feet. It took a moment for it to sink in that the arms around him belonged to his boy. his son. But when it did he felt an overwhelming since of relief and love. He barely managed to wrap his arms around Pietro in return, when the boy started to pull away.

Erik held him a second longer, not wanting to let him go just yet. He wanted to convince himself that Pietro was indeed real, and not a mere memory. Reluctantly, Erik let his son take a wobbly step back but Erik didn’t quite release his hold, keeping his hands on the boy’s shoulders. Pietro’s usually pale cheeks were slightly flushed, and Erik could tell he was embarrassed at having behaved like he did upon seeing Erik. But the boy had no reason to be embarrassed. If anyone deserved the comfort the arms of a father could provide, it was Pietro.

“Well that was adorable.” said Sam, earning him cold glare from Erik and more embarrassed blushing and an attempted glare from Pietro. “What? It was. Just saying.” said Sam shrugging.

Pietro cleared his throat trying to move past his embarrassment “Glad you’re okay Da—Erik, old man.” said Pietro not really making eye-contact.

Erik looked around the open room searching desperately for his daughter. His eyes found her standing across the room. She gave him a small smile, but made no move to approach.

“Hey Erik.” said Wanda, sounding relieved that he was there but not overcome with happiness like Pietro

_She still doesn’t completely trust me._

She had to trust him enough to know he would do everything in his power to protect her and her brother, but Erik thought that part of her would never be able to look past the fact that he hadn’t been there when she needed him most. When she needed him to protect Pietro. When she needed him to tell her and Pietro that they weren’t alone. That there were others with abilities like their own.

“Wanda, Pietro, geht es euch gut? Haben sie euch gut behandelt?”1 asked Erik in a concerned voice, giving Wanda a once over before searching Pietro’s face for fresh bruises or scars.

“We’re fine, Erik.” Answered Wanda, not bothering to respond in German. It seemed she and Erik might be more alike than him and Pietro, as she appeared to be harboring some anger, but willing to acknowledge the fact that she and Pietro were truly alright.

“Pietro?” asked Erik, still holding onto his son’s shoulders to help him balance, though the boy was starting to squirm a little, evidently not liking being fussed over, especially with so many people watching.

“Yea—YeaIt’sAllGoodMan.We’reGood.DidYouKnow,TheyHaveDouble-stuffedOreos now?” Replied Pietro quickly trying to lighten the mood.

Erik gave his son a small smile. Happy to see that he and Wanda really must’ve been treated well, if Pietro was able to respond so light-heartedly. Erik was going to reply but the sound of Sam’s laughter drowned him out, and Erik thought he actually heard a chuckle come from Tony’s vicinity as well.

“You’ve got good taste, kid. If you’re impressed with double-stuffed Oreos, you should see all the different flavors they have now too. I like your shirt too, kid. I’ve been meaning to get myself one of those.” Said Sam grinning at the boy then at Steve.

“Sam.” said Steve clearly indicating that now was not the time.

Ignoring the outburst and Pietro’s continued embarrassment, in one fluid motion, Erik easily scooped up a still too-light Pietro into his arms and started making his way over to Wanda.

“Hey! Erik, dude my leg might be out of commission, but I’m not an invalid, man. Just give me crutches and I’m good to goooo.” said Pietro, a hint of embarrassment in his voice again as everyone in the room observed the interaction.

Disregarding Pietro’s statement, Erik addressed his daughter in a voice low enough that it wouldn’t be heard by the Avengers across the room. “I’m glad they treated you both well enough, but there is no need for us to stay here any longer and wait for them to rethink their hospitality. Get us out here, Wanda. Now. Take us home.”

A shocked and anxious look came over Wanda’s face, “I—I don’t…”

“Just try Wanda. I know you can do it.” encouraged Erik.

Wanda’s hands started glowing red and little surges of energy flew out of them in waves.

“Miss Maximoff, is everything alright?” asked Vision striding cautiously closer to the family, not sure exactly how to proceed without upsetting anyone. The other Avengers drew a little closer as well.

“Hey, It’s okay sis. You don’t have to take us back now.” said Pietro kindly from Erik’s arms.

“Are you not ready to return, Pietro? We can keep you safe there, if that’s what you’re worried about.” said Erik. He wouldn’t force Wanda to take them back right now, if Pietro wasn’t prepared to go home, but he didn’t want Pietro’s reluctance to be the result of fear.

“No, man. I want to. I do! We just don’t have to go _now_. These guys are good people, so just stop pressuring her dude!” replied Pietro sounding a little irked now, and Erik regretted implying that Pietro was afraid though a part of him likely was.

Suddenly Wanda cried out, “Everyone just stop it!” A large wave of energy surged out in a circle away from Wanda forcing everyone back a couple of feet, and causing Erik to grip Pietro tighter so as not to drop him.

“I—I can’t do it right now okay!” said Wanda in distress and speaking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I’m sorry! But I just can’t. Maybe I have to be where we entered this universe. Maybe, I’m still not back up to full power after expending so much energy to bring us here. Maybe, my heart just isn’t in it right now. I don’t know! I’m sorry, Erik! I’m sorry, Pietro!” finished Wanda clenching her fists at her side.

“It’s alright, Wanda. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you.” said Erik, regretting he had upset his daughter so much. He was still very much getting the hang of this parenting thing again.

“Yea, seriously sis, it’s no biggie. If anyone understands not being at full strength, it’s me.” added Pietro quietly.

Erik could tell it was taking a lot of effort for Wanda to remain calm as she responded, “I just—I need to be alone. Is there someplace I can go please?” asked Wanda addressing Vision, since he was the only one she really knew in the room, besides the girl she knew as Wilma.

“Of course. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. There is plenty of space. I’ll show you to a room Wanda, and perhaps Natasha could take Peter to see Dr. Cho about his leg now too.”

Erik wanted to stop Wanda from leaving. They had just been reunited, but he recognized that it was his fault she felt she needed to leave. And he would give her her space. However, Wanda hesitated clearly she was distraught about everyone seeing her lose control, and wanted to have some time to herself but she looked back at Pietro unsure. “Pete will you—I could stay and go with you to the Doctor.”

“Nah sis, it’s alright. It’s all good. Erik’s got this covered, clearly.” said Pietro gesturing with one arm at Erik and himself, as Erik was still holding him. “Really, Wands. If I need you, I’m pretty sure you’ll know.”

Wanda nodded and gave him a small smile. Erik noticed that she didn’t really look at him though, and he feared he may have angered her more than he thought by asking her without any warning to take them home. Erik also noticed that a pained look came over the elder Wanda’s face at Pietro’s comment, causing him to feel a moment of guilt for his earlier words to the girl.

“Don’t worry, I will set you all up in rooms within the Avenger’s quarters that are adjacent to one another.” said Vision as he went to lead Wanda out the door.

“I’ll take her.” Said the elder Wanda stepping in for Vision. Erik had a feeling that although it might be weird for this universe’s Wanda to be around his own daughter, Erik thought that the reason she had volunteered to show the younger girl to a room was because either she couldn’t handle being in the same room as someone who reminded her of her own brother or because she was trying to honor Erik’s wishes for her to keep her pain to herself.

The younger Wanda looked back one more time, and Pietro gave her a thumbs up and a smile as she left, which caused Erik to feel a rush of pride for his son, who he knew still might not be feeling very happy, but who was managing to be strong for his sister.

As soon as the Wandas were gone, Pietro piped up, “uhhh, can you dial back the kung foo grip, Erik? I was being serious about being good to go, as far as walking is concerned. Like really the crutches are right theeeeere” said Pietro stretching out his hands as if he had Erik’s powers and could magically cause the crutches to fly into his outstretched arms.

Erik—rather reluctantly—set Pietro back on his feet, supporting him while he used his powers to bring over the crutches.

Though Pietro was still certainly light enough to make picking him up not in any way cumbersome, it pained Erik a little when he had to acknowledge now that Pietro was recovering—which was of course what Erik wanted—there would not be much reason to hold Pietro again.

He had missed out on the time when he could’ve picked up Wanda and Pietro without a second thought or carried them on his shoulders, and he would never get that time back. Really what was so important that he’d been doing with during that time in their life? Killing Nazis and hunting Shaw? Yes, but nothing was more important than his children. Even if he didn’t know about them that was no excuse. Despite all the destruction and death he had brought to Charles and the other ‘X-men’s’ lives, he was still glad to have met them, but maybe if he never would’ve left Magda, they would have eventually met under much better circumstances.

“Sooooo.” said Pietro shifting uncomfortably on his crutches as he addressed the room. “Introductions? Or are we in a staring contest? If so, my money’s on Erik.”

* * *

 

1: “are you alright? Did they treat you well?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how I described Wanda’s powers might not be exactly how they worked in Age of Ultron, but in this story I imagine the visions/memories being just as realistic as what Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Thor experienced. I also realized a while back that I probably should have had Erik be most comfortable speaking Polish instead of German, but oh well.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s chapter 25. 25! Holy cow when did that happen? I remember when I was just going to make this story a couple of chapters long…whoops. Thanks for reading! Thoughts are in parenthesis once more because formatting is being difficult again.

PIETRO POV

The next couple of days went by in a blur, which is a surprising phenomenon for a speedster. Maybe it had a lot to do with Dr. Cho’s positive assessment of Pietro’s physical recovery, or maybe it was just because he was with his sister and his dad, even if they weren’t home, being together was certainly better than being alone. But what was home really, if not family. He didn’t have a physical home anymore. If only Mila were here too, his home would be complete.

Dr. Cho’s physical examination had of course been stressful and awkward, since the last time he’d been in the presence of doctors they seemed to have forgotten their oath to ‘first, do no harm.’ Thank God, no one had yet forced Pietro to have a psyche evaluation—though maybe he just didn’t know he was being evaluated in such a manner—along with his physical one because that would have been depressing, infinitely more awkward and uncomfortable, and probably not nearly as optimistic. 

For better or worse—Pietro couldn’t decide if his presence increased his embarrassment or not—Erik had stuck with Pietro through the entire process, giving the Avengers’ doctor a death glare just in case she decided to go crazy and attempt to dissect him or something. Fortunately, and maybe because Erik’s presence actually did a lot to calm him, Pietro only had one panic attack during the Dr. Cho’s examination. 

It happened while he was undergoing an X-Ray to check on his leg. It was stupid really. It wasn’t like he was getting an MRI or a CAT scan, which would have actually partially confined him and thus it would have made some semblance of sense for him to freak out. But nope, he had to freak out about a simple X-Ray. It was soooo embarrassing because it was just his leg, and he really shouldn’t have had an anxiety attack about something so simple. But there was something about lying there with a lead vest heavy on his chest that made him feel as though he were back on the examination table under Dr. Marshall’s cold probing gaze. 

The attack only lasted about a minute, but it felt much longer to Pietro. When he finally regained his presence of mind, the first thing he saw was Erik’s worried face looking down at him as he spoke reassurances softly in German. Pietro could tell by the look on his father’s face that even though Erik wasn’t a speedster, the minute had felt much longer to him too though probably not as humiliating. 

When he had recovered, Dr. Cho didn’t address the incident beyond giving him a sympathetic look, which caused heat to rise to Pietro’s face, and asking him if it was alright to continue. Pietro had said yes he was fine because really, what else was he going to say? But other than being beyond embarrassed, once he realized he wasn’t back to being a test subject, he really was okay, even though he could tell Erik thought otherwise. If getting an update on Pietro’s health wasn’t so important, Pietro figured his dad would have dragged him from the room. But as it was actually pretty important to know how Pietro’s recovery was going, Erik had allowed Dr. Cho to continue, and happily enough things improved from there. 

Dr. Cho informed Pietro and Erik that the results of the X-Ray were quite extraordinary bearing in mind the recentness of Pietro’s injury. His leg was healing well considering the severity of the break, and it was no longer necessary for him to keep wearing his make-shift cast or any cast for that matter. Huzzah!

Yet, sadly his leg was still not completely healed. Therefore, Dr. Cho insisted that Pietro wear a medical boot for three days during which time she told him—more like commanded—he was under no circumstances to run, as it may hinder his recovery. As agonizing as Pietro knew it would be to refrain from running, it was only three days, which yea could be a long time for the speedster, but he’d endured three months—so he’d been told, he would’ve believed them if they said it had been thirty years, but obviously that wasn’t the case—of hell, he could last three days without running, besides he hadn’t really used his super speed when he’d been at Al’s, so really he could just allow himself to sink back into despair and the days would fly by. He was joking of course, but it was a good thing he kept that particular joke to himself because he was pretty sure Erik would not have found it funny.

But after the third day, following a check up with Dr. Cho, he would more or less in the clear. He would just have to wear an ankle brace until his leg completely recovered, which Dr. Cho guessed might take another two weeks after that but to be safe, she was adamant that he wear the brace for at least a month. And he wasn’t supposed to overwork his leg during that time, which meant no running long distances in super speed or otherwise for the first two weeks of wearing the brace and he had to be careful during the following two weeks. 

So that announcement had been a bit of a buzzkill for Pietro, but at least in just three days he would be able to zip around a room pretty easily. After that Dr. Cho had gotten all serious again. Sure she was nice enough, but she could really lighten up a bit. Perhaps she’d been in Erik’s proximity for too long. Erik was serious enough for everyone within a 10-mile radius, especially when she shared the rest of her prognosis. 

Pietro’s recent cuts and bruises did not seem to have any long lasting side effects, and were almost completely healed. And though the scars would likely fade more with time, they would still always be there….another constant reminder of how messed up Pietro was. But what made Erik more serious and elevated his dad mode was her prognosis that Pietro was still dangerously malnourished, which duh, Pietro could have told her that. He had always been skinny but normally it wasn’t quite so easy to count his ribs.

So Dr. Cho had asked Pietro to estimate what he would consider his normal diet and insisted that he increase that by 1/3 of his usual caloric intake, as his usual amount of calories would only maintain his weight and not increase it. She had then lectured Erik on the importance of following this new dietary routine, as if Pietro wasn’t in the room and didn’t recognize the importance of food, sure he hadn’t always felt like eating recently but he had just downed a bunch of PB&Js and Oreos! Give him some credit! 

Dr. Cho had then given Erik a box full of Ensure Shakes that she stated would be an easy and healthy way for Pietro to increase his number of calories. So a good portion of Pietro’s time over the past few days had been spent drinking a variety of flavors of Ensure shakes under the watchful eye of Erik. Pietro didn’t mind the constant hovering too much, the guy did have 15 years to make up for, plus it was nice to not be alone—when he was alone, he had too much time to think—, but it certainly did make Pietro glad he was Erik’s son and not some average Joe. He was pretty sure anyone else would have keeled over in fright at being under the relentless gaze of the terrifying Magneto. 

Besides, he was really doing Erik a favor, letting the man tail him around. (He could totally stop him if he wanted to). Pietro thought it kept his dad’s mind off of the fact that they were staying with people who Erik did not completely trust.

After Wanda’s failed attempt to take them back to their own universe, Erik had let his daughter have her space, before trying to get Wanda to agree to return to Al’s farm, but Wanda had witnessed ‘Wilma’s’ powers and that was a stone she couldn’t leave unturned, insisting that ‘Wilma’ could help her control her own abilities and quite possibly make give Wanda the control she needed to get them home. 

‘Wilma’ had been reluctant to teach Wanda at first, stating that she didn’t think their father would like her spending so much time with one of their ‘captors,’ but Wanda, still a little angry at Erik for pressuring her to return them to their own universe had replied, ‘He might be my father, but I have been making my own decisions for years. I don’t need his permission.’ So ‘Wilma’ had given in, even though she still seemed conflicted, especially when Pietro came to watch their training sessions, which Pietro did quite frequently over the next few days.

Pietro made sure to spend most of his time in the presence of other people, even if they were watching him with at times an annoyingly protective gaze—‘cough’ Erik—but even though Pietro joked that he was distracting Erik by letting him follow him around, he still didn’t want to be a nuisance to anyone, so he tried to rotate his time with different people. 

Pietro did spend a lot of time watching ‘Wilma’ help Wanda control her powers. ‘Wilma’s’ powers apparently allowed her to fly or at least levitate for short distances, which was freaking awesome, was everyone in his family gonna be able to fly/levitate except him? Unfair. So anywho, they’d been working on that a lot. 

‘Wilma’ was right about Erik not being happy about number 1: staying at the Avengers’ compound, and number 2: Wanda getting training from an Avenger, but he had to admit that it seemed to be helpful and make his daughter happy, so he’d given in, not that he probably would’ve been able to stop Wanda from doing what she wanted anyway. Nobody could stop Wanda. His sister was a total badass, not that he would tell her that, at least, he wouldn’t phrase it exactly like that. She already took her big sister responsibility waaaay to seriously. 

Pietro spent most of the rest of his time just talking with Erik. He wanted to know more about what Erik had done in his 15-year absence from Wanda’s and his life. Erik had been hesitant to share—he’d already seen his dad drop a stadium around the White House and do some other shady things on live television, so it was pretty funny that his Dad thought anything else in his past would scare Pietro away—but after some coaxing, Erik had given up some details about that time, like how he and other young mutants—one of who was Alex, which was cool—trained at the stoner guy’s aka Charles Xavier’s mansion (word to the wise: don’t refer to him as a stoner in Erik’s presence, apparently he’s normally a ‘very respectable individual’) when they were first honing their abilities. But Pietro could tell Erik wasn’t ready to share or maybe he didn’t think Pietro was ready to hear some details of his life, so Erik had steered most of the conversations back to Pietro’s life growing up.

Erik, Pietro noticed, also spent a lot of his time reading something Steve had given him before making apologies that he had to leave to attend a friend’s funeral in London. He’d handed Erik the document with no explanation other than the cryptic message, ‘You better read this, because if you stay here, you, and most likely your children as well will be forced to make a decision to sign or to resist.’ 

Erik poured over the document whenever Pietro was distracted watching Wanda and ‘Wilma’ and in the early hours of the morning when Pietro was still sleeping. Pietro knew this because even though they’d all been given their own room, which Pietro had to argue with Wanda and Erik about for the longest time,—he didn’t want them listening to his nightmares and yea it was nice to be with other people during the day he didn’t need 24-hour surveillance anymore—every morning, he still found Erik sitting in the lounge chair in his room, drinking a coffee and reading the document Steve had given him. 

Pietro wasn’t sure if Erik slept at all. Maybe that was part of his mutation? Okay probably not, but seriously the guy had to get up super early because Pietro had woken up from a nightmare one night just as the sun was rising and Erik had already been at his post. 

Pietro had glanced at the document too, and found out it was called the Sokovia Accords. Though government documents were usually not his preferred reading material, he sped read through it anyway, figuring if his dad was obsessed with it, it was probably important. Also, he just wanted to connect with his father more. You know, share their interests, maybe get some mutual hobbies…like shopping for capes, hijacking giant metal robots, threatening presidents…hmm, maybe it’s healthy to have different interests. 

The Accords were just as boring as he thought it would be, and a lot of it was so garbled with political talk that it went way over his head, but what he did understand was a little frightening. Not that he expected it to be an uplifting read. Even before he’d gone through it himself, he’d been able to guess that it wasn’t going to be anything good, based solely on the pronounced vein in Erik’s forehead whenever he was reading the thing. 

Basically the gist of it was that the Avengers would no longer be a private organization, but would instead be under the supervision of a United Nations panel. The part that affected him, his sister, and Erik the most though was a little tid bit in the Accords about the registration of all ‘undocumented enhanced assets’ and certain restrictions on enhanced individuals. 

No wonder reading the tome that was the Accords caused the vein in Erik’s head to nearly burst. Erik and the government/military didn’t have a great history and if the stipulations in the accords seemed troublesome to Pietro then they undoubtedly sounded down right dire to Erik. Pietro just hoped Erik wasn’t concocting a plan to murder this universe’s president. There are three branches to the government after all and you can’t blame everything on one guy. Who knows, the guy might not be for the Accords at all…but some people were.

Pietro had also learned from Erik who had found out from Vision that Steve, Wanda, and Sam had chosen not to sign the accords whereas, Tony—Pietro could tell by Erik’s tone of voice when he listed the name that his father wasn’t surprised by this—Vision, Natasha, and James Rhodes, another Avenger they hadn’t met, had signed. 

The whole thing sounded unbelievable honestly, if not at least impractical. And also, who the hell knew Sokovia was an actual country? It sounded made up to Pietro. Maybe it only existed in this world. He’d have to check a map or a globe, or maybe just take a trip around the planet when they got back home. But it obviously wasn’t fake here, because three days after his first meeting with Dr. Cho, Vision, ‘Wilma’—the rest of the Avengers’ had been AWOL after the first night they arrived—Wanda, Erik, and Pietro were watching the news that was showing live coverage of the ratification of the accords in Vienna, when a large portion of the building became engulfed in an explosion of flames. 

“HolyShit!” said Pietro falling backward off the edge of the sofa where he’d been sitting. Thanks to Dr. Cho’s clearance and a brand spankin’ new ankle brace, he’d just returned from flitting across the room to the kitchen for a Twinkie. Quick as he managed that, he’d still been distracted for a moment by the deliciousness of the Twinkie, so when he’d looked back to the news to see the explosion, his reaction was timed with the others in the room.

His sister just looked shocked and ‘Wilma’—he was growing curious about her real name, especially since she had a habit of hoarding the TV remote and changing the channel whenever the news started talking a bit too much about the Avengers—had one hand over her mouth in disbelief. Erik remained unchanged, but his eyes were narrowed and the vein in his forehead had made another appearance. Vision, however, rose with uncharacteristic urgency, “I need to call Tony and Ms. Romanoff. She was there.” 

Vision made a swift exit from the room, already pulling out his cell phone. ‘Wilma’ spoke next, “It never ends, the fighting. One day humans will destroy themselves.”

“Humans perhaps.” Said Erik, “But not us. Men have tried to wipe out ‘inferior’ races before. They didn’t succeed then, and they won’t succeed now. I hope your friend is unharmed, but perhaps this is what comes from trying to control people like us.” Finished Erik who had risen to his feet and spoke as if he were adorned with his helmet and cape addressing the nation as he had in D.C.

(Bet he’d totally get an A in speech class. For some reason my speech teacher never thought I was worthy of an A as my mouth ran as ‘rapid as a racecar.’)

“That doesn’t give someone the right to blow up a building full innocent people!” argued ‘Wilma’ also rising to her feet.

(Oh no. She’s going to start an argument with Erik. This is not going to go well…but I sort of want to go get popcorn…)

“Most of the individuals there were leaders of nations who supported the Sokovia Accords. Were they not? I wouldn’t say they are very innocent.” Replied Erik in a tone that implied the conversation was over, though ‘Wilma’ wasn’t having that. 

“You just pointed out that Natasha is there. She could be dead. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” asked ‘Wilma’ in disbelief.

Pietro and Wanda shared a look across the room both silently conveying to other a question as to whether they should leave the room before the sparks—there could quite literally be sparks if psionic energy and metal collided—started flying, but they remained, both wanting to see out the ‘conversation.’

“Do not twist my words. As I said, I do hope your friend is alright, though I do not know her, she seems like a formidable and reputable person, though I question why she chose to sign the Accords. I’m not saying what just happened was the right course of action, to take human lives should never be done lightly, but action should be taken against these Accords. If I were remaining in this universe, I would be concerned. You should be concerned.” Said Erik coolly.

“The action you are talking about will own make them hate and fear us more.” Replied ‘Wilma’ bitterly but surprisingly her voice also remained calm.

“You can’t control their fear, only your own.” Answered Erik simply.

“Hey! Heyheyhey guys! News people are saying important things!” interjected Pietro. ‘Wilma’ and Erik’s discussion was getting real depressing real fast, so Pietro decided to nip that in the bud. He already had a basket full of depressing thoughts without adding more to the mix. 

At Pietro’s words, everyone directed their attention back to the news where security footage of a suspect in the Vienna bombing was being shown as a woman’s voice narrated. 

“Oh no…” said ‘Wilma’ quietly

“What is it?” asked Wanda concerned.

“It’s Bucky.” Replied ‘Wilma’

“Who’s Bucky?” asked Pietro curiously. “Is he the bomber? Do you know the bomber? Bucky the Bomber. That’s a lot of beeeees.”

Though the bombing of a building and quite possible deaths of many was no laughing matter, Pietro thought he saw ‘Wilma’ holding back a hint of a smile. He was glad she got that he wasn’t trying to be insensitive. It was just how he was and being his old witty humorous self was how he dealt with…well with life.

“He’s Steve’s friend, and yes. I’m sure that’s him in the security footage, so it appears at least that he is the bomber.” Answered ‘Wilma’

“I know Captain Rogers did not support the Accords either, but he doesn’t seem like the sort of man who would have a friendship with someone willing to take such a radical approach to prevent its ratification.” Said Erik before his eyes seemed to glaze over as if he were thinking of something, perhaps another friendship that didn’t quite makes sense.

“They were friends as kids, and they fought in World War II together.” Clarified ‘Wilma’ “They were on a mission and Bucky fell from a moving train into a canyon. Steve thought he died, but recently he resurfaced. Hydra, a group worse than Nazis, had captured and brainwashed him. They gave him a metal arm and turned him into a cold blooded assassin. Steve’s been looking for him ever since he found out he was alive.”

There was silence in the room. Everyone there had horrors in their past, but at least they weren’t brainwashed. They kept their own mind.

(Well mostly…Two weeks of being a mute vegetable isn’t exactly keeping one’s own mind.)

“That’s really sucky.” Commented Pietro after a while, but trying to lift the mood again, he added, “But he has a metal arm?! That is so freakin’ rad, man. I wish I had a metal arm!”

“Really? You do, Pietro?” asked Wanda skeptically as her eyes went from Pietro to Erik. Erik just raised an eyebrow at his son. 

“Oh…ya know, on second thought, I’m totally good with just my plain old flesh and bone arms.” Said Pietro flapping his arms out a bit rapidly at his sides. “Yep. All good.”

“Why do they call him the Winter Solder?” asked Wanda all serious again.

(Everyone is making it really difficult to be happy right now.)

“I don’t actually know…” replied ‘Wilma’ “But it doesn’t really matter why. What matters is that Steve finds him and helps him remember who he really is…James Buchanan Barnes.”

Getting back on track Erik spoke once more, “I take it Captain Rogers will not be too happy that his friend may be involved in this bombing then?”

“No…he won’t.” said ‘Wilma’ “But maybe now that he’s shown his face, Steve will finally be able to find him.”

Just as ‘Wilma’ finished speaking, Vision returned to the room. 

“I just got off the phone with Natasha. She’s uninjured though the Wakanda king was killed in the blast. I spoke with Tony as well. A task force is being organized to find and detain Mr. Barnes.” Said Vision.

“Thank goodness Natasha is okay. Have you spoken to Steve? Is he going to be involved in bringing Bucky in?” asked ‘Wilma’

“I have not heard from him…I have no doubt he will be involved, though the nature of that involvement I surmise may not be ideal.” Said Vision addressing Wilma before turning his gaze to Erik. “Mr. Lensherr, Secretary Thaddeus Ross also contacted me. He would like to meet with you immediately. He’s in a conference room in the Avengers’ facility.”

Before Erik could respond, Pietro butted in again. “Secretary? Thaddeaus? That’s a guy’s name. It’s cool that he’s a guy because people shouldn’t think all secretaries are girls. Guys can be secretaries and girls can do other things too. Am I right? And Secretary of what?The Avengers? DoesHeLikeAnswerYourPhonesAndStuff?” 

(I wonder how he answers the phones, like ‘you’ve reached the Avengers, how may I help you? Assist you? Avenge you?...)

“No…” replied Vision a little perplexed by the boy’s rapid way of speaking. “He is the United States Secretary of State.”

“Ooooh that Secretary. I guess people probably answer his phones…” said Pietro feeling a tad embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. Embarrassment seemed to be a common theme for him nowadays, but really it was hard enough to keep track of who’s who in government in his own time and universe. How was he supposed to know who the Secretary of State was in this time/universe?

“Why does he want to meet with Erik?” asked Wanda, suspicion in her voice.

“Yes, why indeed?” added Erik with matching suspicion.

“I do not know. I was not informed, but the way to find out would be to meet with him. He is not a bad man, Mr. Lensherr.” Answered Vision.

“No. People in a position of power never are.” Replied Erik with just a touch of sarcasm. “I suppose I better see what he wants from me, or I have a feeling he will come here anyway.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want anything from you. Perhaps he just wants to introduce himself, and welcome you to our universe.” Said Vision optimistically.

“Trust me. He wants something. They always want something.” Replied Erik as he followed Vision from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize. Unfortunately, I’ve only seen Captain America Civil War once, so I can’t remember exact details about the news report, and if they announce publicly that it is Bucky or not. Also, the time between events may be squished or stretched for the purposes of this fic, and I can’t really remember the time frame between different things happening anyway, so there’s that.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost combined 25 and 26 into one chapter, but then I decided I’ve never posted two chapters in one day, so I thought that would be something of an accomplishment to do.

(Recap:“Trust me. He wants something. They always want something.” Replied Erik as he followed Vision from the room.)

ERIK POV

(A short while later…)

“He’s right inside.” said Vision as they reached a door that presumably led to the conference room where Secretary Ross was waiting. “Have Secretary Ross alert me when your meeting is over and I’ll come to retrieve you and guide you back to the Avengers’ quarters.”

“I know my way.” Replied Erik dismissively. He was long since practiced in studying his surroundings, which meant he’d paid close attention to every twist and turn they had made in the trek through the facility. One never knew when that sort of knowledge might come in handy.

“All the same, if you’d have him alert me anyway. I think it would be for the best. Better to keep up some appearances, yes?” said Vision as he retreated down the hall after having paused long enough to receive a small nod of acknowledgement from Erik.

(Perhaps there’s more to the man than I originally thought, if he recognizes the advantages of never letting anyone know quite what you’re capable of.)

Erik opened tested the door to the conference room. Finding it unlocked, he proceeded to enter. Once inside he saw the back of a man with gray hair, his hands clasped behind his back, dressed in a dark suit. He was looking at a TV that though muted, displayed the continued news report on the explosion in Vienna with captions scrolling along the bottom of the screen. Upon Erik’s entrance, the man—evidently Secretary Ross—turned around.

“Mr. Lensherr, welcome. I apologize that it has taken this long for us to meet. I’ve had a busy couple of days…or years you might say.” said Ross as he crossed the room extending his hand out to Erik in expectation of a hand shake.

Erik studied the man’s face before taking his hand. The man had a large mustache and appeared much older than Erik, though Erik knew looks could be deceiving as he himself looked younger than his age would suggest. 

Erik considered ignoring Ross’s offered hand, but he supposed refusing to shake the man’s hand before he had spoken more than three sentences would not be the most diplomatic move. Though he figured he and this man would not get along, perhaps it was better not to get on this government’s bad side right from the get go. One government hating him was more than enough for a single lifetime.

“Please take a seat Mr. Lensherr.” Said Ross gesturing to the available chairs around a large glossy wooden table.

“I didn’t realize we were due for a meeting.” replied Erik making no move to sit.

Unperturbed by Erik’s refusal to sit, Ross pressed on, “Yes, well, if you have heard about this earth’s recent history with aliens, I understandably like to know who is visiting this planet, and when the visitors possess extra-ordinary abilities like you…and your children, then there exists all the more reason for us to meet.”

“What is it you want Mr. Secretary?” asked Erik feeling no need to beat around the bush, as he felt his patience wearing thin at the mention of his children, even if they weren’t mentioned in hostility.

“You’re a very perceptive man, Mr. Lensherr. I’ll do you the honor of getting right to the point then. I assume you’re aware of what just happened in Vienna?” said Ross turning to look back at the TV for a moment.

“Yes.” Answered Erik wondering where he was going with this. Did the man think Erik had something to do with it? If so, and he attempted to lock Erik up again, he would find himself unsuccessful. There was an abundance of metal well within Erik’s reach…including Ross’ tie clip.

“And has Miss Maximoff—the other Miss Maximoff, not your daughter—or Vision informed you of who the suspect is?” asked Ross again.

“Yes.” Replied Erik once more. “Why should it concern me?”

“Well Mr. Lensherr, if they told you that the suspect is James Buchanan Barnes, i.e., the Winter Soldier, then I assume you are aware that his left arm is made entirely of metal.”

Erik’s jaw tightened, but outwardly he remained emotionless. The Avengers’ had come to the conclusion that Erik’s power was telekinesis. Had they not? Was this man aware of the true nature of his abilities. “Your point? I’m assuming you have one.”

“That I do, Mr. Lensherr. When Mr. Stark and Ms. Hill first brought you and your children in, they assumed your ability was telekinesis, but that’s not the case is it?” asked Ross. When Erik didn’t reply, he continued, “But the Avengers, as troublesome as they sometimes may be, they are nothing if not observant. Mr. Stark and Ms. Romanoff both noted that all of the objects you have controlled in their presence have been made of some sort of metal, Mr. Stark’s Iron Man Suit, the plumbing in the hallway, your son’s crutches…but our young Sokovian confirmed the true nature of your powers. After her trip inside your mind, Wanda confided in Vision about what she saw.” 

Erik felt his anger growing. Perhaps revealing his secrets was how this other Wanda got back at him for discouraging her from becoming close to his son. Ross must have noticed something shift in Erik’s features because he quickly continued with his explanation. 

“Don’t blame the girl or Vision for divulging your secrets. Miss Maximoff may have her issues, but she wasn’t trying to pull the rug out from under your feet. It seems you have been through a lot, as has she, and she couldn’t deal with that all by herself, so she confided in Vision. And Vision, though an enigma he may be, has a strict set of morals, and he felt it was right to share any knowledge about you that he thought might be relevant to the U.S. government, and clear up the mistaken assumption we had made.”

Despite the Secretary’s words of assurance, Erik was still irritated that so much about him was being shared, but then he thought back to what Vision had said about keeping up appearances. Maybe the man really didn’t think everything should be shared, even if he had signed the accords and told Ross of his true abilities. It probably would have come to light eventually anyway. Erik could tell that not much got past the Romanoff woman, and as annoying as the man might be, Erik had to recognize that Stark also seemed to be intelligent.

“What is it you want from me?” asked Erik, although he was pretty sure he already knew.

“I thought it would be obvious.” Answered Ross. “We need to bring in Barnes, and we need you to help us do it.” 

“Why should I help you? It seems half of your Avengers do not wish to comply with your orders, so why should I? I have no loyalty to you, or this world. My children and I won’t be here much longer anyway.” 

(And I’m not about to side with those in favor of the Accords.)

“But you’re here now, and though you seem fairly confident that you’ll return home, can you be sure? You came here by accident as a result of your daughter’s powers. Am I correct? And if her powers or anywhere near as volatile as those of this universe’s Wanda then I don’t think you can count on returning. You’re putting a lot of faith and pressure on your daughter. Wouldn’t it be wise to prepare for the possibility that you may never return home?” asked Ross

As Erik listened to the man’s words, as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but entertain the possibility that he was right. He did believe his daughter had the power to take them home, but he did have to accept that she might not be able to harness that power until she gained better control of her powers, and even with the training session with the other Maximoff girl, it could still be a long while before that became a reality. Nevertheless, Erik wasn’t about to let Ross see his doubt, “I still don’t see how that has anything to do with following your orders. Whether we remain here or not, I don’t work for you, nor do I wish to. Need I remind you that your associates brought my family and myself here against our will?” 

“That is true, and I apologize for that, but you stayed here. I know eventually you’ll want to leave, even if you can’t return home, you’ll want to start a new life in this world. I—and the United States’ government that is—can help you do that. We won’t bother you. No one will force you to sign the Accords. We will help you blend seamlessly into society…if you bring in Barnes.”

“And if I do not. What is it you plan to do? What is it you think you can do?” asked Erik. Even if some of what Ross said might indeed be true. Erik didn’t feel he needed the man’s help or the government’s help to make a life here.

Secretary Ross let out a sigh. “Mr. Lensherr, despite what you might think, I do not want to make your life difficult, but it took two weeks for us to find you after you arrived on this planet, and we weren’t even looking. If you go out there into our world with no help, even if you can manage to disappear, which I doubt would be possible even for a man that has skills like yours—this isn’t the 1940s or the 70s—there is surveillance everywhere. People will be able to find you…they’ll be able to find your children.”

Erik’s anger had been building throughout Ross’s commentary, and unable to contain it anymore at the mention of his children, Erik latched onto Ross’s metal tie clip with his mind and pulled it so that his tie tightened uncomfortably around his neck, not enough to permanently harm him, but enough to make it difficult to breathe. At the same time Erik approached the man so there was but a foot between them. 

“Are you threatening my children, Secretary? Do you know what I do to those who threaten my children?...to those who are a threat them?” asked Erik through gritted teeth.

Despite his anger at the man, Erik was slightly impressed that Ross hadn’t attempted to loosen his tie at all, not that he would have been able to. The man’s hands remained at his sides as he wheezed out a reply. “Of course not Mr. Lensherr. I told you, I don’t want to make your life difficult, and I’m not about to threaten children. I’m just pointing out a reality of the 21st Century. I only have the American citizens’ best interest at heart. Believe me when I say there are other organizations out there that are much worse than the U.S. Government that will try to exploit you and your children for there abilities and if you are always hiding, will you truly be able to protect them? And if you have to always be looking over your shoulder, is your life really your own? You’d be a prisoner again, Mr. Lensherr, just in a larger cage.” said Ross as he glanced down at Erik’s arm where the tattoo from Auschwitz was clearly visible. “Help the U.S. bring in a dangerous man, Mr. Lensherr, and leave here with your family having made an ally, rather than an enemy.” 

Erik didn’t release his hold on the Secretary, at least, not right away. His mind was going over everything Ross had said, and unfortunately, Erik realized there was a lot of truth to what the man said. If he and his children had to stay in this world for any duration of time, didn’t he owe it to them to do everything in his power to help them have the best life possible here? And if all it took to do that was to bring in the man with the metal arm, then that’s what he’d have to do. Even if the man used to be Captain Rogers friend and he had to work as some sort of lackey for a government that was trying to restrict the freedom and power of enhanced individuals, he had come to accept that it was something he was willing to do for his children’s livelihood.

(They will always come first. There is no price too high to pay for my children.)

Having made up his mind, Erik released his hold on the Secretary, who gave a small cough before speaking, “Since you’re no longer strangling me, does this mean you’re with us?”

“I’m not with anyone, except my family, but if this is what it takes for you to leave them alone and make sure others do as well, then I will help you bring in this Winter Soldier. But no one so much as looks at my children the wrong way while I’m gone, and if it is necessary for someone to speak with them, they have to go through Miss Maximoff first.” Answered Erik.

“Fair enough, and you mean the Miss Maximoff of this world? From what intel I have, I didn’t seem you were too fond of the girl.” Said Ross giving Erik an appraising look.

“It’s not a matter of fondness. We have the same…priorities.”

“I see. Well, Mr. Lensherr, either way, thank you for helping this country. We appreciate your service. Now,” said Ross clapping his hands together. “there’s a jet waiting for you in the hanger to take you to Vienna. We need to get you there as soon as possible, before the Mr. Barnes slips away again. Oh, and I had our people retrieve your original clothing from Mr. Walker’s farm, that is your helmet and…cape. It will be waiting on the jet. It’s not exactly military standard, but I suppose it’s more suitable than what you’re wearing. Every man needs his uniform when he goes to battle after all.”

Erik gave Ross a hard look, though in all honesty, he was glad he wouldn’t have to go chasing down assassin’s outfitted in plaid. Erik figured the Avengers’ had assumed he preferred to wear plaid as it was what he had been wearing on Al’s farm when they taken him in, so they had provided him with a similar wardrobe. 

Deciding that he didn’t need to comment in regard to his outfit, Erik voiced the only thing that was important to him at that moment. “I’m going to speak with my children first. I’m not leaving without seeing them, and explaining my absence.” 

For a moment it looked like the Secretary was going to deny Erik this privilege, not that he’d really be able to, but he seemed to think better of it, “Alright, but make it quick. Time is of the essence, and it waits for no man.” 

At this statement, Erik couldn’t help but agree with the man said as far as time waiting for no man. Time didn’t pause for him while he was trapped under the pentagon. Time didn’t stop his children from growing up without him, but he was determined to make the most of the time he had with them now. And unfortunately that meant completing Secretary Ross’s mission.   
_______________________________________________________________________________________

(A little while later…)

“So you’re just going to leave is that it, Erik?!” Erik’s daughter asked him tersely. “Just run off while Pete is still recovering?! He needs you here!” 

Erik had just gotten back to the Avengers’ quarters and had finished explaining to his children what Secretary Ross had asked him to do, and why he had chosen to do it, but his daughter wasn’t taking it well. Pietro just seemed rescind, as if Erik’s leaving now or in their own world was inevitable. That reaction almost hurt more than his daughter’s anger. 

“Wanda, really, I’m fine—” Pietro tried to tell his sister only to be cut off by Erik

“I wouldn’t leave unless it were necessary, Wanda. I’ll be back soon enough. I’m sorry—” Erik tried to apologize only to be cut off by Wanda. Like father like daughter.

“It’s fine. I get it. Do what you think you have to do.” Said Wanda coolly before exiting the room.

Erik closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, wishing he could stop disappointing his children and he could better understand his daughter. Did she want him to be part of her and Pietro’s life? Did she not? It was all so confusing. Teenage daughters were confusing.

“Don’t worry about Wanda.” Said Pietro causing Erik to open his eyes. “She’s not mad at you, well maybe a little bit, but she’s really just angry at the world. Worlds. Ya know? She’ll come around.” Pietro finished giving Erik a smile.

At least one of his children liked him, though he couldn’t really fathom why. 

“I have to get going. You’ll be alright?” asked Erik examining his son. Pietro was starting to look a little healthier. Thanks to his increased healing abilities, he no longer had any visible bruises, and he seemed much happier now that his leg injury had been downgraded to only require a simple but sturdy brace that allowed him to get around. Despite fueling up on calories though, the boy was still too thin. His cheeks still hollow beneath his skin. Erik expected it would take awhile for his body to get back up to a healthy weight, especially if he overexerted himself.

“I’m good. I bounce back quick. Literally, if you threw me, I would probably just bounce right back at you.” 

“All the same, be careful and you and your sister watch out for each other. If you for some reason get into any trouble, find Wilma. She will help you.” Said Erik drawing closer to his son and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Wilma? I didn’t think you even liked her. You always seem to be like silently shooing her away outside of Wanda’s and her training sessions or attempting to shoot daggers at her with your eyes.” Replied Pietro.

Had he really been that obvious? At least his son still seemed oblivious as to why he didn’t want ‘Wilma’ getting to close to him, at least the girl had honored his wished in that regard. “I don’t dislike her Pietro…I just…it’s complicated, but she’ll look out for you and your sister.”

Pietro gave what sounded like a bit of a forced laugh, “Really, Da—Erik? You’ve known her for all of a few days and it’s already complicated? Anyway, whatever you say, man. And Shouldn’t I be the one telling you to be careful? I mean I know you’ve got experience doing some crazy sh—stuff, but you’re still the one going after a pyscho assassin dude with the U.S. government beating down your back. I’m just going be chillin’ eatin’ Twinkies, Oreos, and those delicious Ensure shakes.” Said Pietro with a smirk. 

Pietro’s grin was infectious, and Erik smiled back at his son. “You need not worry, Pietro. Even if the man didn’t have a metal arm, I would be able to stop him, and I’ve dealt with the government before, as you know. I can handle anything they throw at me.” Replied Erik. 

Pietro gave a quick nod before replying, “Yea, I ‘spose that’s true…”

Erik looked down at his son again. Pietro was no longer looking at him, and even though he tried to play off Erik’s leaving as no big deal, he could tell it was a big deal to the boy, and he wished he could do something to make his leaving easier on his son. “Pietro?”

“What up?” asked Pietro drawing his gaze back to his father.

“You know, just because your sister calls me Erik. Doesn’t mean you have to. If you wish to call me Dad, you can. At home and in public you may have to refrain from doing so for your own safety, but here, where everyone already knows of are relation, and in private, even though I know I haven’t earned it, it would be an honor for you to call me dad.” Said Erik quietly, as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder again and gave it a gentle squeeze.

(Nothing would make me happier.)

Pietro’s eyes had begun to get watery as Erik spoke, and he wiped at them almost to quickly for Erik to see, before surprising Erik by closing the distance between them and giving his father a hug. 

“OkayThat’sCool….Dad.” said Pietro his voice muffled as he spoke into Erik’s chest.

Erik smiled over his son’s silver locks and returned his son’s hug before the boy pulled away. 

“Sooooo…” said Pietro putting his hands casually in the front pockets of his black jeans and giving his father an embarrassed smile, obviously trying to pretend the chick-flick moment hadn’t just happened. “Now that I can call you Dad, does this mean you’ll actually listen to me, and call me Peter like everyone else does?”

Erik gave his son a wide smile of his own before replying, “Not a chance, Pietro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Please share. To the reviewer who wanted to see Ross strangled with his army medals, sorry that didn’t exactly happen as I didn’t envision him wearing his military uniform, but I hope you enjoyed his and Erik’s interaction nonetheless.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on the update. I know you want chapters and not excuses, but I had to be social during the holiday, which is fine and fun, but it took away from my writing time. Anyway, here’s another chapter. It’s not very long, but I’ve got a decent start on the next chapter, so I hope this will tide you over for a day or two. Thanks for the comments, kudos, and all of the encouragement!

ERIK POV

One military-grade jet ride, two army watchdogs, and some odd hours later, Erik arrived in Vienna. Now, he was riding in the backseat of a black unmarked SUV wearing his cape and armor ensemble with his helmet sitting on his lap. Being that the helmet wasn’t the most comfortable piece of attire in the world, Erik wasn’t about to put it on until he felt it was absolutely necessary. Since he wasn’t in the Avengers’ Wanda’s immediate vicinity, and he didn’t know of any other people with telepathic-like abilities in this world—besides possibly his daughter—he felt he could afford himself that simple luxury.

His two-man escort sat in the vehicle’s front seats. The young army operative who wasn’t driving kept glancing back at Erik so frequently that it looked as though he had an uncontrollable twitch, and it took all of Erik’s self-control not to take a piece of metal and tie it around his head, so that he had no other option but to look forward.

Erik wondered what Secretary Ross had told his ‘escorts.’ Probably that he was a dangerous enhanced individual who for the time-being was cooperating with them. It was obvious Ross didn’t think Erik would cause any trouble or he wouldn’t have assigned such a young army recruit to accompany him, though the driver seemed more seasoned, so perhaps they balanced each other out. 

Ignoring yet another glance in his direction, Erik turned his head to look out at the city passing by. He’d leave it to Ross’s men to find the Winter Soldier; he wasn’t about to assist the government in locating a man who had so publicly gone against the Sokovian Accords, even if he had a few screws loose. 

In Erik’s opinion, it really would be better if Captain Rogers just dealt with his former friend how he saw fit, without the government getting involved, but Erik would hold up his end of the bargain. If Ross’s men did indeed locate the man with the metal arm, then Erik would secure the Winter Soldier, and in doing so, secure his children’s future. 

(No. I’m not going to think about them right now.)

Erik struggled to push the thought of his children aside. He couldn’t think about his children right now, or he might become distracted from the task at hand. Instead, Erik let his mind wander. He relished in the feeling of the pulsating hum of metal all around him, and the familiar comfort of his old attire.

It seemed like a lifetime ago since he’d last worn the gladiator-like outfit. A lifetime since he, Wanda, and Hank had liberated Pietro from his prison.

(Damn. I’m thinking of them again.)

It was hard not to think of his children. They were his life now and he welcomed it, but worrying about them while he was trying to get into his old frame of mind, the mind of a cold-emotionless killer—though he didn’t plan on killing anyone today—would not be helpful. 

Erik took his helmet off of his lap and shoved it onto his head. Maybe it would help him focus, and though there were no telepaths around to fulfill its true purpose, the helmet did aid him just a bit. It helped him realize that part of him would always be called to fight. Fight for revenge. Fight for justice. Fight for his family…

(I suppose I should just accept that they will forever be on my mind…)

“The extraction failed. Our men and the local police are in pursuit.” Said the young army man from the front passenger seat. The man—neither he nor the other military personnel had offered their names and Erik hadn’t inquired—was talking to the driver, but Erik listened in, grateful for the distraction from what otherwise might be plaguing his mind.

“They are in pursuit now, as is Captain America and Falcon, along with an unidentified, possibly enhanced, individual.” continued the younger man.

The driver scoffed in reply, “Where do all of these people keep coming from? Was there a recent nuclear explosion I’m not aware of that let off endless waves of radiation?”

Finding their topic of conversation of interest and a tad insulting—Erik didn’t appreciate the disdain in the men’s voice as the spoke about enhanced people—Erik voiced his thoughts, “Tell me if I have this right…your Secretary of State enlisted my help to bring in this Winter Soldier, yet instead, he already sent in a team that attempted to capture him. Now that team is failing, and it seems the Winter Solider, Barnes, may escape. So I ask you, why is your government wasting my time and taking me away from my family, if they didn’t want to use my skills in the first place?”

The twitchy young soldier looked like he was about to answer Erik, but the older driver beat him to the punch, “If you have been following the news at all lately, Mr. Lensherr, then you’d know that the issue of enhanced individuals is a very controversial topic at the moment. Secretary Ross sees both the advantages and disadvantages of your people, but he’s not about to publicly use one enhanced person to capture another, unless it is the only available option. You are a last resort to have on hand in case this operation goes south. So just sit tight and wait until we instruct you to do otherwise.”

Erik narrowed his eyes at the older man who had made eye contact with him in the vehicle’s review mirror as he finished speaking. They had taken him away from his family as a back up plan?! Erik was already furious at having been manipulated into do their dirty work, but this gave him a new reason to be livid. 

“You want me to…just…wait?” Erik said coolly.* “And for how long does Ross think I will just sit idly by waiting to be summoned like a common prostitute? The sooner this is finished, the sooner I can return to my children. I will not—”

“Mac.” Said the younger military operant unabashedly interrupting Erik in his rant, as he looked down at a tablet displaying something Erik couldn’t see. 

(It would just take a little piece of metal to silence him. I could do it…)

Picturing his son telling him he had anger management issues, Erik managed to contain his violent impulse, as the younger man continued speaking.

“They are all on the lower highway system. If we maintain our position and they remain on their current trajectory, they should be below us in less than five minutes. How should we proceed? There’s an exit a few miles ahead.”

“We keep going.” Answered the older man (Mac, Erik now knew) “Stick to our orders and hang back until called upon. We continue on this stretch of road, and we’ll take the next exit to make our way down to the lower highway. We may be able to cut them off that way, and we’ll be ready if they need us.”

(No way in hell that’s what we’re doing. I’m finishing this now and getting back to Wanda and Pietro.)

“I have a better idea.” said Erik as he focused his abilities and stopped their vehicle—rather abruptly—in its tracks. Behind them other vehicles screeched to a stop or swerved around them honking their horns, while Mac and the other member of Erik’s escort cursed in surprise. Engaging his powers once again, Erik threw open the car door, easily breaking through the police-like back seat car lock meant to ‘discourage’ him from leaving the vehicle.

Wasting no time, Erik exited the vehicle, his cape billowing in his wake. He didn’t even pause as he put out his hand to stop a couple of other vehicles that were standing between him and the edge of the overpass.

“Lensherr!” Mac’s voice called behind him just as Erik reached the edge of the highway. Erik looked back to see that both Mac and the younger man had abandoned the vehicle, and the younger man had his gun trained on Erik.

(Humans and their guns. Will they never learn?)

“Lensherr!” Mac repeated again loudly so as to be heard over the cars speeding by, separating Erik from the other two men. “Stand down!”

“Sorry Mac. That’s not happening.”

And with that Erik forced the gun downward out of the younger man’s hands—he figured it wasn’t a good idea to have a loaded weapon go flying into heavy traffic—and he stepped over the highway’s railing, levitating himself to the ground right in front traffic, but he easily stopped the vehicle that would have hit him.

He landed gracefully and turned his head up just in time to see his two former companions appear at the rail above, gazing down at him with irritation, if not malice, before they disappeared from view, presumably to return to their vehicle and continue with their original plan as to how to make their way to the lower highway.

Turning his gaze back to his immediate surroundings, Erik made eye contact with the people in the vehicle he had prevented from plowing him over after his short descent. In the front of the car was an older couple, looking at him with what could only be shock and fear. Erik supposed it wasn’t everyday people came falling—or flying—out of the sky, but then again, Tony Stark obviously did it from time to time…though Erik needed no suit to take to the skies.

Looking past the couple Erik saw a little boy peering between them from the backseat. The boy was holding a Superman** action figure and he kept moving his eyes back and forth between Erik and the toy with impossibly wide eyes.

For a moment, Erik thought painfully of Pietro and wondered what he might have been like at that age, but he forced himself to stay focused on the present.

(I’m no Superman kid.)

Erik released his hold on the family’s vehicle and after a moment it sped around Erik. It seemed people in this world better understood that when something abnormal was happening, one should run away from it rather than just gawk. Erik watched as the vehicle disappeared into the distance, with the little boy turning in his seat to gaze back at him in awe.

Unsure of which direction the Winter Soldier and his ‘posse’ would be coming from, Erik strolled forward in the direction the car with the older couple and boy had gone. The other cars on the road avoided Erik without any assistance, though many honked. Erik wasn’t concerned about them. He could feel the metal in each one that went by. He would stop them if he needed to. Nothing as mundane as being hit by a car was going to kill Erik Lensherr.

Erik continued forward, being sure to look across the way at the cars moving in the other direction as well, on alert for anything out of the ordinary. 

(Like a man with a metal arm.)

Erik tilted his head. He heard the sound of sirens growing louder behind him. Turning around, Erik saw the single headlight of a motorcycle speeding toward him from some distance away in the tunnel he had dropped down in front of. 

Past the motorcycle, he could feel metal speeding through the air, and he could see the outline of a man soaring along the top of the tunnel. Just below that he thought he could make out a dark figure moving just as fast, but beyond that there was no mistaking the red, white, and blue shield in the hand of a man who could only be Steve Rogers. Guess it was a good thing Al had chosen to get Pietro a Captain America t-shirt, or Erik might not have made that connection so quickly.

As the motorcycle drew closer, Erik could see and feel clearer than before that the man riding it had a metal arm.

(The Winter Soldier.)

As the motorcycle made its inevitable exit from the tunnel, an explosion brought down the ceiling at the tunnel’s edge. Erik watched and felt as the flying figure made a drastic change in direction to avoid the falling debris.*** The dark figure that Erik could now see was a man in some sort of black pather-esque suit, as well as Captain America had somehow both managed to make it out, but all of the police cars in pursuit were trapped inside. 

Well, almost all of the police cars. one car came flipping sideways out of the tunnel behind them. 

Erik thrust his hand out, stopping the tumbling vehicle, and preventing it from plowing Steve over, though it didn’t look as though the Captain was even aware it had almost pummeled him from behind. 

(Time to end this.)

The motorcycle was almost upon Erik now with no signs of stopping. The Winter Soldier probably thought Erik was just some deranged man in a cape…maybe he wasn’t far off with that assessment.

Thrusting out his hand again, Erik forced the motorcycle to a halt causing the Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes Erik remembered now—to go flipping forward over the front of the handlebars and soaring into the air. Since it wasn’t Erik’s intention or mission to kill the man, he used his abilities to go with Bucky’s momentum and slow him down before bringing him to a complete stop. Erik lowered him to the ground and pushed him to his knees, using the metal in his clothes and his arm to do so.

From this position, Bucky couldn’t do much, but he managed to raise his head to look at Erik incredulously and say, “who the hell are you?”

Erik replied emotionlessly, “Does it matter?”

That was as far as their conversation progressed however, as Erik became distracted by the catlike figure still barreling toward them, or more precisely toward Bucky. The cat/man made a dramatic leap at Erik’s stationary prisoner, but it was to no avail, as Erik raised his other hand and swiftly stopped the man mid-jump, preventing him from his evident goal of tearing Bucky limb from limb. Thankfully the man’s costume? suit? uniform? had metal claws and other random spurts of metal throughout that made the job fairly easy though the man fruitlessly struggled in Erik’s invisible clutches.

A moment later Captain Rogers, shield still in hand, came sliding to a halt behind the two immobile men. 

“Erik?” said Rogers with a near disbelieving look on his face. “How—what are you doing here? You’re working for Ross now? This isn’t your fight.”

Erik knew he didn’t have to give Captain Rogers an explanation. With copious amounts of metal at Erik’s disposal, not too mention a shield made of metal, there was nothing Steve could do to stop him. Yet, for some reason, Erik felt the man deserved some sort of response, and Erik felt compelled explain himself. 

“You’re right. It’s not my fight, but I’ve been dragged into it anyway. And I work for no one but my family…I’m doing what’s necessary for them, for their future.” 

Steve still looked baffled after this explanation, and also possibly a little disappointed and betrayed by Erik’s response. Under the Captain’s gaze, Erik felt shame growing within him, but why should this man’s opinion matter to him? It didn’t matter what the Captain thought of Erik’s actions. Erik knew he was doing what was necessary under the circumstances, just like he always did. He in no way supported the Accords, but the interests of his children had to come first, no matter the consequences for everyone else.

It looked as though Captain Rogers was about to speak again, but he didn’t get the chance as Erik felt a large metal object approaching from the air, and all four men looked up. A moment later, a bulky metal suit of armor landed beside them and trained a machine gun and blasters their way.

(Stark.)

Though the suit was different in its appearance, Erik’s first thought was that it must be piloted by the annoying man who had turned up on Al’s farm. Erik was not exactly pleased to see him, but when the man inside the suit spoke, Erik could tell the voice did not belong to Stark.

“Stand down. Now.” Said the man as countless police cars and officers suddenly showed up in the man’s wake.

Erik wasn’t quite sure who the man in the suite was talking to, though he wouldn’t be surprised if that statement was directed at him. He had already heard it once today from another individual Erik had pissed off. His uncertainty was quickly cleared up though when the man spoke further. 

“Congratulations Cap. You’re a criminal.” 

(If Captain America is a criminal, what does that make me?) 

It was hard to see the emotions on Captain Rogers face due to the man’s mask, but Erik thought he looked rather dejected, though not particularly sorry as he stowed his shield behind his back and raised his hands in surrender.

Then, the unidentified man addressed Erik, “Mr. Lensherr, you’re not particularly good at following orders are you? But I guess you delivered on what Ross asked of you. We haven’t met, but Tony has told me quite a bit about you. I’m James Rhodes.”

“I don’t care.” Said Erik impersonally. Erik knew Rhodes was one of the Avengers who had signed the Accords. That told him enough about the man.

“I guess Tony’s depiction of you was pretty accurate. Would you mind exercising your abilities to remove our friend’s mask here?” said Rhodes nodding his head—with some difficult due to the suit—at the man in all black. 

Before Erik could follow or dismiss this request—what was it with people in this world thinking they could control him?—the man in question spoke out in an unusual accent, and despite his current powerless position, a very dignified voice, “I can manage that myself, if I am given use of my hands.” 

“Alright then. Mr. Lensherr?” said Rhodes nodding at Erik, indicating he should allow the mystery man to do so. 

Erik was irritated that Rhodes seemed to have no problem making the decisions, but seeing no reason not to allow the man in question this small dignity, he released his magnetic grip on the man, who promptly removed his mask. 

The man beneath the mask was a young African male who looked dissatisfied with himself and maybe saddened or angered by how the current predicament had unfolded. Erik thought he recognized the man from the news coverage of the ratification of the Accords, and he felt sure he was the Prince of Wakanda. Then Rhodes spoke once more, confirming Erik’s assumption in what could only be reserved surprise, “Your Highness.”

Having kept up on the news coverage regarding the explosion, Erik could only guess that the Wakandan prince was after Bucky in revenge for killing his father, but how he came by the suit or his extreme agility, Erik didn’t care. There was only one question he wanted answered: how long would it be before he would be back in the U.S. with his children again?   
___________________________________________________________________

*This is probably weird, but I imagine Erik saying this like Snape (From Harry Potter. I hope I don’t have to tell you who Snape is.)

**I’ve read fics before where DC characters are fictional comic book characters in the marvel universe, and I like that idea, so that’s how it works in this story.

*** I re-watched the scene with the tunnel chase from Captain America Civil War, but I can’t figure out what happens to Falcon? Can anyone enlighten me? Does he make it through the debris or end up trapped inside? He’s obviously okay because he appears not too much later, but how did he not break his legs or something when he flew through or ran into the falling debris? I’m baffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, this isn’t my favorite chapter. I’m not much into writing about action sequences, but next chapter will be more emotionally centered, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, you should all watch HISHE for Captain America Civil War; it’s hilarious


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains self-harm as well as mentions of past child abuse. Please find someone to talk to if you feel depressed or if you are in danger, and reach out to those who might be to afraid to ask for help.
> 
> (Thoughts are in parentheses.)

ERIK POV

After the dramatic end to the hunt for Barnes, Erik had been the perfect little soldier, which had painfully reminded him of his time spent under Shaw’s thumb. He’d followed Rhodes orders and used his powers to keep Barnes under his control until the metal suited man had gotten his government contacts to bring a large confining mobile cage to them. He’d also stripped Cap of his shield and Falcon of his wings, which had earned him some glares—mostly from Wilson—along with a few snide remarks, all from Wilson. 

After that, Erik had ridden with Cap, Falcon, and the Wakandan Prince—T’Challa—to Berlin where Barnes would be kept for the time being, until whoever was in charge decided what to do with him. 

The ride to yet another government facility, had been silent for the most part. The Wakandan Prince gave him some curious looks, obviously wondering what his story was but not caring enough to inquire, he evidently had other preoccupations on his mind, such as murdering the Winter Soldier. 

Rogers and Wilson had been quite as well, though they shared quiet conversations among themselves that Erik couldn’t hear. Though at one point the Captain had addressed Erik saying, ‘I understand why your helping them. Don’t let it weigh on you.’ Rogers spoke to Erik as if he were the younger man, which technically going off birthdates he was, but by years actually awake on the earth, Erik had some years on the soldier. The man shouldn’t be speaking to Erik as if he were in over his head.

As soon as Barnes had been secured in his moveable cage and Erik could let his guard down, he’d asked—which was putting it politely—Rhodes when an aircraft would be summoned to take him back to America. The Avenger had replied that Erik needed to remain with Barnes’ escort until they reached Berlin. Then they would make the necessary arrangements, but hours later, they were in Berlin and Rhodes was no where to be found. 

Erik had watched as a whole troop of soldiers or government officials or some sort of trained monkeys in one form or another had escort Barnes deep within the Berlin facility. Erik thought he had been very well-behaved throughout this entire ordeal, especially considering everyone seemed to either ignore Erik or shoo him away when he tried to talk to someone that looked to be in charge, but now his patience was wearing thin.

Soon he’d be likely to snap and kidnap someone who even slightly resembled a pilot to get back to the U.S. of A. The only thing that had stopped him from doing just that thus far was the knowledge that any ill-advised behavior on Erik’s part may make Ross go back on his word to help his children form a safe and happy life in this world.

But as the time passed, Erik’s ability to hold onto this rational was quickly fading. He couldn’t be expected to wait forever, but unless someone paid him some attention soon, there would likely start to be bodies left in his wake. Being civil was getting him nowhere, so as much as Erik knew it might not be wise to do so, he was very close to changing tactics. 

Erik had no idea where Rhodes, Captain Rogers, Wilson, or even T’Challa were. Obviously even the ones now considered criminals had been deemed more important than him and had been escorted off elsewhere. Whereas, he’d just been given civilian clothes—more plaid. really?—and been shoved off as far from everyone else as possible, though no one seemed to be truly worried that he’d cause any trouble for it seemed everyone had forgotten about him.

As he’d wandered through the compound every person he encountered rushed by him. Erik didn’t even bother to try to stop most of them, as many looked like no more than interns who though maybe would be able to get Erik a cup of coffee, would in no way be able to get him a flight out of Berlin. 

Tired of being considered inconsequential, and missing his children, he wished not for the first time that he possessed Azazel’s teleportation abilities, or even that the man was still alive and in this world to assist him. But being that none of those options were actually possible, Erik decided he had waited long enough for action, and it was time he showed everyone here why they should never consider him insignificant. 

Forcing his way into a restricted area in search of Rhodes or even Mac and his partner, Erik caused an uproar as he broke through sealed doors and shoved people out of his way with his powers. He hadn’t killed anyone yet, but if people kept screaming at him to cease and desist in English and German, he just might.

As he walked into a new room, his destruction was cut short when Natasha Romanoff appeared as if out of thin air—Erik was impressed by her stealth skills—and walked right up to him. Thinking she might actually be able to get some shit done, like helping Erik cross an ocean, he didn’t stop her.

“Mr. Lensherr, you do know how to make an entrance. You know, if you wanted to see me, you could have just knocked.” Her lip twitched up on one side in a small smile as she spoke. 

Anger nowhere near quelled, though something about her tone of voice seemed to put him at ease, Erik replied, “I didn’t come here to see you, I came here because—”

“Will you take a walk with me?” said Natasha cutting him off.

Who did this woman think she was that she could just interrupt him mid-sentence without fear of the consequences?

His reason for tearing through the compound was not forgotten, but her daring deserved a reply, “What if I say no? I didn’t come her for a stroll. I—”

“I’ll persuade you.” Said Natasha cutting him off again.

How irritating this woman was. Continually interrupting him, yet for some reason he didn’t have the urge to strangle her. Nonetheless, Erik was still very much aware of all the metal in the room. He could be very persuasive too. But Natasha seemed to know this as she responded, “Come on Mr. Lensherr. You’re making the nice government employees nervous. We both know you don’t have to come with me, but I’d like it very much if you would. You can come barging back in here if you don’t like what I have to say.”

Erik wasn’t sure what it was about her that calmed him down, perhaps it was Erik the note of sincerity in her voice or the obvious truth of her statement, but for one reason or another, he relented. 

“Very well.” He said, allowing Natasha to escort him from the room. He could almost feel the tension dimension as he left and the relief of the others in the room.

Once they backtracked through a few doors, Erik spoke up, “Are you going to assist me? Because I don’t plan to waste my time on a walk with you, if you do not intend to be useful. I am in need of—”

“a ride back to the states I know.” said Natasha. Erik was starting to grow use to her interruptions. “I’m actually surprised you waited this long before making an appearance. I was beginning to think they had sent you back already. Give me a half an hour, and I’ll have a jet ready to take you wherever your heart desires. And I think we both know where that will be.”

“Are you really going to be able to deliver on that? It seems to me you may just as easily be indulging my wishes with false promises to dissuade me from making a scene.” Said Erik. He might be gaining some respect for this audacious woman, but that didn’t mean he trusted her.

Natasha gave him a calculated smile, “The jet will be here. You might not be aware of it, but Tony is here too. You may not have made friends with him, but if I tell him you’re willingly going to put an entire ocean between the two of you, he’d happily buy a new jet—probably even an airport—to make that happen. I think being in the presence of a man who can control metal, makes Tony a bit worried that he might have…shall we say, performance issues being that he frequently masquerades publicly as Iron Man.” 

Her explanation seemed reasonable enough, but he wasn’t quite ready to believe her just yet, “You and Mr. Stark aren’t worried about upsetting Secretary Ross? Despite doing as I was asked, the man hasn’t taken the time to formally release me from my ‘employment,’ and I’m not sure he’s done with me just yet. Yet, you’re willing to go against him?”

“I’m not going against him. I’m going around him. It’s very different.” said Natasha calmly giving him a little shrug. “Besides, neither Tony nor I are impeccable models when it comes to following the rules.”

“And yet you both signed the Accords.” Replied Erik. “That seems like a move a rule follower would make, and I think it makes it pretty clear as to where you stand.”

“Does it though? You oppose the Accords, and yet you brought in Barnes. I know you have your reasons for doing so, two of which are back at the Avengers’ Compound. Well I have my reasons for every one of my actions, Erik…even if they might not be so visible.” 

Erik mulled over her words. She hadn’t really revealed anything with that statement, so Erik commented on the one thing he felt she might actually reply to, “We’re on a first name basis now are we, Natasha?” 

“I think we ought to be, don’t you? Otherwise this makes are private stroll a little awkward.” said Natasha raising one eyebrow at him.

Erik should be agitated by her words, but there was just something about her that kept his anger in check, and made him accept her banter. Perhaps in another life, they would have been friends...or more. But still Erik wasn’t much in the mood for jests, so he ignored her comment, “So you want me to wait here quietly until this jet arrives?”

“That would be preferable. Just try not to break anything…or anyone and getting you out of here won’t be a problem. Here,” said Natasha handing him a cell phone. “I’ll let you know when your ride is ready, until then, just try to relax. Take a walk, though don’t break down any doors to do so, and you’ll be on your way back to see your children before you know it. Wanda and Vision’s numbers are programmed in there too, why don’t you try calling them. Talk to your kids if they’re up, and the time will fly by.” 

Erik hadn’t even thought to ask for one of this century’s mobile telephones. He could have been checking in with his children all this time. Guilt rose up in Erik. He wasn’t accustomed to this world/time’s amenities, but that wasn’t an excuse. He should’ve have remembered such devices existed, but he hadn’t. And Natasha could have not even mentioned the possibility of such a long distance phone call, and he would have been none the wiser, but she didn’t. She knew he would want to reach them. 

“I will try that…Natasha. Thank you.”

She gave him a smile smile again, “Wow. I got a thank you. I have a feeling you don’t hand those out very easily.”

“No…I do not.”

There was silence between them for a bit, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it just was.  
“Well I should go get that ride of yours arranged. Thank you, Erik, for the walk.” said Natasha as she turned around, and started heading back the way they’d come. 

Erik watched her go, and was just about to head off in the other direction and to find a more private place to take up her suggestion to call his kids, when she turned back around.

“Oh, by the way, Erik. I’m glad the flannel fits. I wasn’t exactly sure what size you were, but it looks like a chose correctly.” Before he could respond, with a sly smile she turned on her heel and walked off.

Well at least that explained why they kept giving him plaid shirts, and who found it so humorous.  
_______________________________________________________________________________

PIETRO POV

Meanwhile…

Pietro was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d just woken up from a nightmare, and he had no intention of risking a return to that particular expanse of dreamland anytime soon, so sleep was off the table for the time being, at least until tomorrow night. 

As far as nightmares went, it had been a pretty bad one. Not only had he been dreaming of his time at the facility when they’d force him to run lap after lap until he would collapse of fatigue and hunger unable to find the strength to move an inch, but the dream had also been even worse this time as Bryan had made an appearance in it too. Pietro’s step-uncle had come over to him after Pietro had fallen face down onto the hard ground, unable to finish another lap. Then Bryan had knelt down next to him, holding Pietro’s arms down to keep him from struggling. Unable to do anything, though Pietro tried so hard to get away, the boy had been forced to experience the demons of his childhood again on top of the horrors of the facility before he’d woken himself up as he fell off his bed screaming, sweaty, and tangled in sheets.

Pietro shook his head quickly, trying to physically clear away any lingering images of the recent nightmare. He wished Erik was still here. If he had been, he probably would have been at his post beside Pietro’s bed, waking him up before the nightmare got too bad. But Erik was gone, and though Pietro understood why that didn’t make it any easier. 

He considered waking up Wanda, but then what would say. ‘Umm…I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?’ He wasn’t a little kid anymore. He shouldn’t and couldn’t go crying to his sister, especially when they were the same age, though she reiterated the fact that she was 12 minutes older than him frequently enough that he had to remind himself that 12 minutes to her was just 12 minutes, it wasn’t actually that long of a time.

So instead of bothering his sister, he’d come out to the Avengers’ kitchen, to get a glass of water because he really couldn’t think of anything better to do. Maybe he’d try drinking a glass of warm milk instead. That’s supposed to help people sleep, right? Though it sounded pretty disgusting in Pietro’s opinion. Milk should be cold.

Reaching to grab a glass from the cupboard above the sink, Pietro noticed someone had left a large shiny silver knife sitting in the dish rack along with a few other dishes. Glass forgotten, Pietro reached over and picked up the knife. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but it felt right in his hand. 

Pietro looked at his reflection in the knife’s gleaming blade. His hair was as silver as always and disheveled from sleep or lack there of. His pale face stared back at him and he noticed his cheekbones seemed more prominent than the used to thanks to the facility’s extreme diet plan.

As he looked at the knife he thought about all the horrible memories held within his mind, and how much he wanted them out of his head. He’d never hurt himself before, even when he had been dealing with Bryan. He’d tried to be brave and strong for his mom and his sisters. He looked deep inside himself for that strength, but he just couldn’t seem to find it, so he lowered the blade to his arm, making a thin cut across his wrist.

It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. A pain he could control. He watched the blood ooze from the cut. It was a brilliant red color and shone brightly, almost beautifully, over his near-translucent skin. As the blood dripped into the sink, he let himself imagine that all of the bad things that had ever happened to him, were going down the drain with it. On some level, it seemed to be working. As the blood flowed, he felt cleaner, and his head clearer. But then he found his eyes focusing on the branded X on his arm and then on the tattoos on his other arm, and he felt dirty and damaged all over again. 

(I just want to be in control of my life.)

Still clutching the knife in his right hand, Pietro went to make another thin cut on his arm below the first one when red energy engulfed the knife and it flew from his hand sticking in the wall just above the counter’s backsplash as a voice near shouting level cried out behind him, “What the hell are you doing!?”

_______________________________________________________________________________

AVENGERS’ WANDA POV 

A few minutes earlier…

Wanda was a pretty light sleeper, and though the walls in the Avengers’ compound weren’t paper thin, she could still hear the doors of the rooms near hers open and close, which just a few minutes ago, one had done. It was still technically night, but she had found herself unable to sleep. It happened sometimes, not as frequently as it used to as the time since Pietro’s passing grew, but it still happened.

So when she heard the door of someone else’s room open, a tell tale sign that another person was awake, she figured she would go see who it was, just to have something to do. If it was the other Wanda or Pie—Peter than she could see if something was the matter. Even if Erik didn’t want her getting too close to them, she wasn’t just going to ignore them if they needed something. He had eventually come to accept her training sessions with his daughter, so she figured it would be okay.

Walking into the kitchen she saw the lithe outline of the boy with silver hair. Still in his pajamas—Hawkeye themed, though she guessed he probably didn’t even know what/who the bow and arrow on his shirt represented—it looked like he was getting a glass of water, as his back was to her and he was leaning over the kitchen sink. Yet, she thought it was rather odd that he wasn’t getting the filtered water from the fridge and the sink water wasn’t running either.

Puzzled now, Wanda walked closer until she could see him from the side. That’s when she noticed the dazed look on his face, the knife inching toward his wrist, and the blood dripping from his arm. Along with terror for the boy, the sight brought forth a sisterly instinct she thought had disappeared.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she cried out, using her powers to wrench the knife from his hand. She then quickly grabbed a clean towel from kitchen drawer as she made her way over to him. Reaching the boy, she carefully grabbed his arm and wrapped the towel around the bleeding cut. He flinched when she made contact, but didn’t pull away.

“I don’t—I didn’t mean—nothing.” said Pietro stumbling over his words.

“This doesn’t look like nothing.” said Wanda keeping pressure on the wound. “What were you thinking? Why would you do this to yourself?” 

He didn’t respond right away. He just stared at her then at the spot at the wall were the knife was lodged, “I just…I don’t know…” He looked down at his feet before saying softly, “Please don’t tell Wanda.”

Wanda chose to ignore the request for the time being. He sounded so lost and hurt that if she tried to address anything other than the fact that his arm needed tending to, she might forget that she had no real connection to the boy, and pull him close to give him a hug until all of his pain went away. 

“I need to clean and bandage your arm. Hopefully it won’t need stitches. Come. And keep pressure on that.” said Wanda nodding to his injured arm while she guided him using his him by the elbow of his uninjured arm toward the nearest bathroom where she knew a first aid kit would be available. Vision insisted it was important to keep numerous kits close at hand for the safety of the members of the team who weren’t quite as durable as others.

When they reached the bathroom, she led him to the closed toilet seat, at which point she put her hands on his shoulders, gently but forcibly prompting him to sit, while she pulled out the first-aid kit from under the sink. 

Pietro had remained silent throughout this entire process, which worried Wanda more.

(What is he thinking? God, why would he do this?)

“Okay. I need to look at it now.” said Wanda kneeling down in front of Pietro and pulling the towel away, a red stain now marking its formerly pristine white color. “I don’t think you need stitches. It’s not as deep as I thought.” But it was still deep enough to worry her. The fact that it existed at all worried her.

Standing up again, Wanda wet a washcloth and proceed to clean the cut, being as gentle as possible. “Are you going to tell me why you did this?” she asked.

The boy looked around the room, anywhere but at her. Finally, he said, “Are you going to tell my sister?...or my dad?”

“That depends.” said Wanda as she focused on applying Neosporin to his cut. “Are you going to do this again? And are you going to answer my other question?”

“I was just…checking how sharp your knives are….Answer: very sharp. Top grade cooking utensils you’ve got here.” said the boy, trying to appear chipper, but his voice cracked at the end.

“Pie—Peter…I’m being serious. This is serious.” said Wanda in a warning tone.

“Look. It’s—it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again. I plea momentary insanity. PleaseDon’tTellThem.” Said Pietro finally looking at Wanda with huge imploring brown eyes that tugged at Wanda’s heart. A single tear fell from one of his eyes, but he didn’t wipe it away. Maybe he didn’t even notice it.

She had the resist the urge to reach up and wipe the tear away herself. The boy really had wormed his way into her heart, and she’d tried so desperately to keep him at bay after Erik’s warning. 

Taking Wanda’s silence to mean that she was going to tell them, he pleaded with her, “My dad would probably blow a gasket, and my sister would flip out too. She would just blow this out of proportion. She thinks she has to take care of me because she’s twelve minutes older, but she doesn’t need to! Ya know? We’re twins. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

Wanda felt a mix of sadness and nostalgia at the boy’s words. 

(So he’s the younger twin. Maybe things would’ve been different if I’d been the older one. Maybe then Pietro would have let me be more protective of him, and he’d still be here.)

“Yes. I do know, but their concern would be warranted, Peter. This is a big deal. It’s not okay to hurt yourself. If you start feeling like you’re going to do something like this, you have to talk to someone. You don’t have to tell me…I know some bad things happened to you before you came here, but there are so many people here that care about you too much to let you do this to yourself…”

Wanda paused hoping her words were getting through to him. “Not so long ago, I lost someone very close to me…my brother, and I—I wanted to die. I felt like I was already dead, so there was no point to keep on living. I even tried to kill myself, but Vision saved me. I wasn’t happy to be saved at first, but now I’m glad he did save me. It’s harder some days than others to keep going on, but I realized P—my brother wouldn’t want me to die. He’d want me to live…for both of us.” Wanda finished, struggling to keep her emotions at bay as she finished wrapping Pietro’s arm in gauze. 

When she was done she didn’t release his arm, instead she took his hand in both of hers, trying to make him believe her words. She kept her gaze on his arms for a moment, taking in the sight of his freshly bandaged arm, as well as the branded X above it and the tattoos on his other arm that clearly, all of which were clearly not put there by choice. What she really wanted to do was look into his mind and see how they came to be and carry some of his pain for him, but she knew she couldn’t do it. Wanda had promised Erik she wouldn’t get too close to him, and there was no guarantee that if she looked into his mind, she’d be able to keep her own memories from him. Then he’d only have more pain.

Giving her a puppy dog look again, Pietro interrupted her thoughts. “I didn’t—it’s not like that. I wasn’t going to kill myself. It just helped me feel in control…look, can we just pretend it never happened? I’m not going to do it again.” 

(It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is me.)

Wanda could tell Pietro was becoming embarrassed by the whole situation, and she figured it was time to let go of his hand, which she did rather reluctantly.

“We can’t just ignore this, Peter…I won’t tell them if you really mean you aren’t going to do it again, but you should tell them. And if they ask what happened, I’m not going to lie to them.” Then she added with the hope of distracting him, “I don’t plan on giving your father another reason to hate me.” 

Her plan seemed to work somewhat as he responded right away, “Erik doesn’t hate you. No really!” said Pietro when Wanda gave her a skeptical look. “I asked him! He even told me that I should get you if I needed help…though I don’t think this is what he thought I’d need help with…He just said things are complicated, which who the hell knows what that means. I mean, he’s actually a pretty great dad, but he’s also a weird cryptic dude.” 

Wanda was genuinely surprised by Pietro’s declaration that Erik trusted her enough to look out for his son, even when he knew her past. 

“He just cares about you. That’s all. I can be dangerous. I’m sure that’s all he’s worried about. How’s your arm feel?” said Wanda trying to steer the conversation back toward the more important issue at hand.

“It’s okay…I’mGood.I’veHadWorse.” said Pietro giving Wanda a closed mouth smile.

Though Pietro meant to reassure her with his words, his comment just made her feel all the more despondent and hate the world fir making him suffer through so much at such a young age. Even when he was so obviously experiencing both physical, mental, and emotional pain, the kid was still trying to reassure others.

(Who would hurt this innocent boy?)

This silver-haired boy who reminded her so much of her brother, yet was also a person all his own. A person she wanted to shield from anymore pain, and protect as if he really were her little brother, because in a way, he was.

“Okay then.” Said Wanda. “I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to sleep?”

Pietro just shook his head quickly.

“Then, you’re going to come try a taste of my cooking.” said Wanda tugging the boy up until he was standing.

“I’m not really hungry actually…” mumbled Pietro.

“Peter, I know that your speed means you need a lot more calories than a normal person, so if you don’t come eat what I put in front of you and have an Ensure shake to go with it, then I will personally go wake up your sister right now.”

“You’re bossy.” said Pietro, but his tone was lighthearted and teasing.

“You can thank my brother for that. He required a lot of bossing around.” Said Wanda, finding herself smiling. Glad that she’d come far enough that she could think of her brother and find joy rather than sadness. So this Pietro wasn’t her brother, but maybe her brother—wherever he was—had brought this boy to help her. To help them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So maybe Natasha would act this way, maybe not. She’s a mystery to me, but I really thought Erik could use a friend, or at least an acquaintance whose presence he can tolerate. Thanks for reading! I love hearing from all of you, so please share your thoughts if you feel so inclined.


	29. Chapter 29

ERIK POV

Having found a secluded corner in the building, Erik was just about to try to call his children, even though it was still much too early in the U.S. for any sane person to be awake, when the power went out around him.

(That can’t be good.)

He knew he shouldn’t care. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t his problem, but due to curiosity or maybe some other compelling emotion, Erik headed toward the sound of a commotion, which also happened to be the direction people were running away from. 

Coming around a corner, Erik found himself in a large open room with a bunch of plain cafeteria tables. The furniture was in disarray, and there was a blond woman unconscious on the ground. Quickly scanning the rest of the room, Erik’s eyes landed on Stark who was also on the floor, nursing a black eye and, probably wounded pride. 

Erik paid him no heed and strode right passed the well dressed man, who looked like he didn’t have enough energy to pester Erik anyway. 

Going past a slightly out of it Stark, Erik approached the third injured person in the room: Natasha. The woman was lying on one of the cafeteria tables, and Erik noted that her neck was almost as red as her hair. He felt a flash of anger, which surprised him. It wasn’t the blinding anger that overcame him when his children were hurt or in danger, but there was still annoyance there. Annoyance that someone had hurt the woman who was willing to go against her superior to help him. 

“What happened?” he asked as he reached her, hoping he kept any sign of concern out of his voice.

“Barnes.” Natasha replied, her voice hoarse from her injury. “The roof. Go.” 

Again Erik surprised himself by not even questioning Natasha or why he was listening to her, but instead he quickly made his way over to the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was thankful that he was in good shape. One thing Erik’s time at Auschwitz had taught him was that one’s body was something that should never be taken for granted, and if he was blessed enough to be able to eat well and exercise then he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to do so. 

Erik bounded up the final flight of stairs that led to the roof. Reaching the top of the stairs, Erik wrenched the door to roof open with his powers, ripping it off its hinges in his haste.

The first thing Erik noticed when he reached the outside was the roaring sound of a helicopter and the movement of its rapidly spinning metal blades, but what stopped Erik in his tracks was not the sound or the feeling of metal, but the sight of the helicopter across the roof, at the of the landing pad, or rather the sight of who was hanging on to it.

Captain Rogers had a hold of the helicopter’s landing skid with one arm and the roof’s railing with another. His muscles were straining, but what was more impressive was that his effort was actually paying off. Despite the pilot’s—who Erik registered was Barnes—clear efforts to leave, it wasn’t making any progress. In fact, Rogers seemed to be pulling it back to the roof.

Stunned by the display of the man’s inhuman strength, Erik had yet to act in any form. He knew from his first encounter with Steve that the man was abnormally strong, but he had not imagined how strong. Erik felt a newfound feeling of kinship arise in him. Perhaps if they did have to remain in this world, he and his mutant children wouldn’t be so alone after all. If people like Steve, Wanda, and Vision, existed, maybe there were other mutant—or what was akin to mutant—brothers and sisters out there.

Recovering from his initial shock, Erik reached out with his powers to help Steve pull the helicopter back. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated Barnes sudden radical change in control of the chopper.

The helicopter went careening back toward the landing pad…and Steve. Erik just barely managed to prevent the tail rotor from making Swiss cheese out of the Captain, and if Rogers hadn’t also rolled out of the way, he probably still would have been hit.

Erik tightened his mental hold on the helicopter, quickly stopping the blades before releasing it from his power. There was a moment of calm as the dust cleared, and he took a step toward the wreck. But before he could react or get any closer, Barnes reached out with his metal arm and grabbed Steve’s throat in a death grip. 

Erik responded quickly, pulling Bucky’s clenched fingers away from Rogers, who promptly fell onto his back, while the chopper started inching in the other direction toward the water below. 

Steve looked back at Erik for a moment in surprise before turning back toward his main focus: Bucky. The Captain leapt to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on Barnes in the teetering helicopter.

“Erik! Help me! Pull it back!” Steve shouted back at Erik as he tried futilely to find some sort of purchase on the landing pad to stop the sliding helicopter. 

Erik already having raised his hand, intended to do as Steve asked, but then he hesitated, remembering something. 

(The power is out. That means the cameras are out of operation too.)

No one would know, if Erik had made it in time to stop Barnes. Tony had seemed too stunned to even notice him as he had passed by, and Natasha might very well know Erik would have easily made it in time to confront the Winter Soldier, but something told him, she wouldn’t rat him out. 

And what would bringing in Barnes do? Ross couldn’t deny that Erik had already done his job. It wasn’t his fault someone else was inept at theirs and allowed the soldier to escape. All of these thoughts rapidly ran through his mind in the span of seconds, so fast did they come that he wondered if this was how Pietro felt all the time. 

Erik wouldn’t have to compromise his principles. He didn’t have to work for Ross, and even if Ross somehow found out about what Erik was about to do, it didn’t matter anymore. Erik was tired of being someone’s pawn. He’d been done with that since he’d killed Shaw. No matter what the man said, he and his children didn’t need Ross. Erik would go back to the U.S., retrieve his children from the Avengers’ compound, and set off on their own immediately. 

Erik’s hope that his children could have a seemingly normal life here had held him back from refusing to help Ross, as had his fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect his children in this unfamiliar world…but his children weren’t normal. A normal life was never going to be possible for them, and all of the times his children had suffered was when he wasn’t there to protect them. 

(That’s not going to happen again.)

He was going to be there for his children. He never should have left them to fulfill someone else’s agenda.

Erik had made his decision.

Instead of pulling the helicopter back onto the roof, Erik gave it the push it needed to make its fall toward the water below, while he held on to Steve with his powers, using the man’s belt buckle to keep him from falling along with it. 

“ERIK!” Steve shouted at him in surprise and anger as the helicopter tumbled into the water below. 

“Help your friend Captain. They won’t let him escape twice.” Replied Erik, just loud enough to be heard.

“What—” Steve started to say, but he barely managed to get the question out before Erik shoved him off the roof toward the water, making sure he wouldn’t land on the helicopter’s wreckage. The man was more than human, Erik knew he’d survive the fall. 

As the Captain made a small splash in the water, Erik honed in on the metal frame of the helicopter now in the water below. Finding his hold, Erik ripped off the remaining side of the chopper were Bucky was seated. He trusted the Captain would take it from there. He didn’t want to risk pulling to hard on Barnes’s metal arm to free him from the wreckage and end up tearing the man’s arm off from using too much force because he couldn’t see into the murky water. 

Captain Rogers might not understand that in pushing the helicopter and him off the roof, Erik was actually trying to help them escape, but it didn’t really matter. Erik knew Rogers would be smart enough to use the crash as a means to get away from the government’s hold. 

He had done what he could. It was up to the Captain now. 

Erik turned away from the ruined helicopter pad and jumped down onto the lower roof. He’d levitate himself down the opposite side of the building and re-enter it from below, disassociating himself with Barnes’s escape and Rogers’s departure. Then he’d find Natasha and see about that plane she’d promised. If all else failed, he’d commandeer a vehicle or maybe even Stark’s metal suit, and find his own way to get across the Atlantic. 

Wanda and Pietro weren’t going to be without a father any longer. One way or another he was going to get back to them, and then they would leave…together this time.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

CLINT POV

Some time later…

Clint didn’t know why he was disappointing his children. Okay scratch that. That was a boldface lie. Clint was all too painfully aware of the reason he was disappointing them. The reason why he’d dropped everything and come out of retirement without any hesitation. He thought of the reason every time he hugged Cooper and Lila, or laid down by his wife at night.

But the reason was especially apparent every time he held his youngest child in his arms. Nathanial Pietro Barton. 

(Pietro.)

The young man’s face was on the forefront of Clint’s mind each and every time he picked up his youngest son because he knew without Pietro’s sacrifice, he would never have gotten a chance to hold his youngest boy, as every father should be able to…as Pietro never would, because he would never get the chance to have children. He’d never grow old. He’d never retire from whatever path his life would’ve taken. 

All of the possibilities that lay in front of the young man died with him the day he saved Clint and the life of an innocent child, and that haunted Clint everyday. That didn’t mean Clint wasn’t happy that the kid he had tried to shield with his own body was alive or even that Clint wasn’t happy to be alive. He was so happy to be alive. He loved his life, and he loved his children. But he hated that his happiness had come at the cost of the life of another, and one so young.

Yes, Clint’s death would have been tragic, but it wouldn’t have been a tragedy. His life may have been cut short, but not as short as Pietro’s was. Clint had lived. Pietro had barely reached adulthood. And Clint’s children would still have had their mother, but who did Wanda have? 

Sure Clint and the rest of the Avengers’ tried to support Wanda, but they didn’t really know her, though they were trying to get to know her. They weren’t her family. Her last family member was dead, and for all intents and purposes, she was alone, because no one would be able to fill the gaping hole that her brother had surely left in her heart. No one had been by her side since the womb, with her through all of the challenges and injustices life threw. Clint’s inability to protect a civilian and himself had made sure of that.

So that’s why, instead of loading up the minivan to go water skiing with his family, he was walking unannounced and uninvited back into the Avengers’ compound to liberate one Wanda Maximoff from her captivity. 

Clint made his way through the Avengers’ compound, dressed in all black with his bow and arrows on his back. He encountered no one, but who would he encounter? It was the middle of the night, and it wasn’t like he was banned from the facility. He still had complete access to it. He had retired. He had not deliberately disobeyed a direct order from the government and then ran off with a wanted man. 

Nope. That description fit the one and only Steve Rogers, but he supposed after he broke Wanda out from under Vision’s watchful eyes, he’d be well on his way to becoming a wanted man. But oh well. What was a little law breaking among friends?

Clint walked down the hallway that made up the Avengers’ living quarters. He’d check the kitchen and common area for Wanda first since it was on the way to her room, and he had a feeling she might be prone to restlessness, even though some time had passed since her brother had died. He was just going to open the door to the communal living area, when he heard a brisk young voice behind him.

“whoareyou?”

Clint whipped around instinctively raising his bow and grabbing an arrow from his quiver. He thought he felt a small gust of wind, but when he turned around the hallway was empty. Clint scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion.

(That was weird. Am I hearing voices now? Maybe retirement has made me crazy.)

“Cool bow, man. Are you supposed to be Robin Hood or something?” The same voice asked from behind him again.

Clint whirled around once more, certain he felt another gust of wind this time. The hallway behind him was again empty, and this time, so were Clint’s hands. His bow and the arrow he had pulled from his quiver were gone. Clint stared at his empty hands uncomprehending. When the voice spoke for a third time, once again from behind him. 

“Dude, this bow is really rad.”

Clint turned around once more, starting to feel dizzy from his persistent rotating, but this time when he turned around the hallway wasn’t empty. Instead, Clint found himself facing a peculiar looking boy. 

The kid was extremely pale. He had silver hair that stood up every which way, the darkest brown eyes Clint had ever seen, and he looked a tad too thin than could be healthy. There was also a fresh bandage on one of his wrist, and it looked like there was something else above it, as well as some marking on his other arm. But Clint was distracted by the fact that the kid was somehow holding Clint’s bow and arrow to focus too much on any one detail. 

(How’d he do that? Is he enhanced? Who is this kid?)

The boy had put a fair amount of distance between himself and Clint, examining Clint’s bow in one hand and twirling one of his arrows in the other. The boy was also in his bare feet save for a brace around one foot, and to Clint’s puzzlement, the kid was wearing black pajama pants that had little bow and arrows on them, along with a black t-shirt that had a bow and arrow crisscrossed on the front of it. 

“Like, at first I thought, this guy’s got a bow and arrow? That seems weird. Who has a bow and arrow nowadays, especially nowadays, if you know what I mean. You probably don’t know what I mean. But Legolas’s weapon of choice is a bow and arrow, and everyone knows he’s the most badass character in The Lord of the Rings, so don’t worry, I’m not about to underestimate the destructive power of a bow and arrow.”

When the boy paused Clint opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it at a loss for what to say, still trying to grasp what the hell was going on. Seeming to take Clint’s silence as a cue to keep talking the boy rambled on.

“Are you an Avenger? I’m guessing you are, because I think I’m wearing your logo, which is super embarrassing.” Said the boy, pulling at his shirt a little as if to compare the bow and arrow on it to the one in his hand. “I mean, I’d like to at least know who a person is before I become a walking billboard for them, but the clothes were free so what can you do? Sorry for taking your bow if you are an Avenger, but if you’re not I wasn’t about to let you go on a murdering spree or whatever. So you’re an Avenger? You’re not an Avenger? What’stheverdictdude?”’

The boy had an air of nonchalance about him, but despite his confusion at his unexpected accoster, Clint had still been around the block enough to be able to tell that it was just a front. Beneath his carefree demeanor, the kid was—not terrified—but he was definitely nervous and perhaps just as surprised to find Clint wandering the Avengers’ halls late at night as Clint was to find him doing so.

But despite the kid’s underlying anxiety, on his last word, the silver-haired kid zoomed up to Clint, so he was just a few feet away from him, and for the first time, giving Clint a clear view of what he could. It was at that point that Clint nearly had a heart attack.

(Pietro?)

“Peter!” said a familiar voice emanating from the common area behind him. Clint turned to see Wanda emerge from the common area, interrupting the improbable—but maybe not impossible—theories, he was forming in his head after seeing the boy move at an inhuman speed.

“And oh my God, Clint! It’s alright, Peter. This is Clint Barton.” Said Wanda. Clint took note of her calm reassuring voice despite her obvious surprise at seeing him. “He’s an Avenger too. Well a retired Avenger, or at least he’s supposed to be. What are you doing here, Clint?” she asked coming around to stand between him and the boy.

Wanda took the bow and arrow from the kid, who had visible relaxed and handed it over without hesitating. Then she passed it to Clint, who wasn’t entirely conscious of accepting it, but obviously he did because the next thing he knew it was back in his hands.

Clint looked between Wanda and the boy who was peeking over her shoulder curiously to look at Clint. Clint looked back and forth between the two young people before him, trying to find similarities in their features. 

Nothing immediately stood out to him, their eye color was much different, but how could anyone have eyes as dark as the boy’s? Maybe there was something in their bone structure, but nothing was overwhelmingly similar. They could be related; they could not be.

“Clint?” Wanda asked again just as Clint realized that he had been staring dumbfoundedly between the two of them and had yet to answer her question.

“Uh what?” he asked still taken aback.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” she asked again, more slowly this time.

Then Clint remembered why he was there. He was doing Steve kind of a time sensitive favor, but that didn’t stop him from wondering who the hell this speedy kid was. Wanda had called him Peter, which was awfully close to Pietro, but he couldn’t be Pietro. Could he? Could he? Was he some sort of clone? A deaged Pietro? A third younger Maximoff sibling? Clint had to know. He had to know if the Maximoff twin hadn’t died saving him after all, but he also had to do what he’d come there for.

Forcing himself into action, Clint answered Wanda, “Disappointing my kids. We were supposed to go water skiing.”

Clint turned away from Wanda and the boy, Peter. Though Clint was definitely still fixated on figuring out just who the kid was, he couldn’t waste any more time. Heading into the common area, Clint looked around. Out the window, he spotted Vision outside in the distance. Using the arrow the boy had originally taken from him, Clint strung it quickly in his bow and shot it into the wall to his right. Then Clint swiftly grabbed another arrow from his quiver, whirled it around his head and shot it into the opposite wall.

Having done this, Clint turned around to find that Wanda and the kid had followed him into the room and were staring at him in bewilderment. 

“What are you—” Wanda started to ask him, but he cut her off as he walked forward and took her hand, leading her from the room as the boy followed behind.

“Cap needs our help. Come on. There’s no time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way, and you can tell me who the kid is.”

“I—” Wanda stated to speak again, but this time the kid cut her off.

“I’m right here dude. You could just ask me. Name’s Peter Maximoff, not kid, and why’d you call her Wanda? I thought your name was Wilma.” Said the boy sounding like he hadn’t really thought that at all. “Did you not want to have two Wandas walking around now that my sister is here too? I guess that might get confusing, but you have a right to use your own name. I mean, I’m sure there are lots of other Peters out there, maybe not so many Pietros but—”

“Peter!” said Wanda silencing the boy. 

There were a thousand more questions running through Clint’s head. The kid’s name was Peter—or Pietro—Maximoff did that mean he really was Wanda’s twin brother? He just for some reason was younger and looked a tad different. But if so, why? And how was he alive? Clint had watched him die, had watched him sacrifice himself so he could live. And if he was Wanda’s brother then how did he not know Wanda’s real name?

“I have to talk to Clint.” Said Wanda, derailing Clint’s thoughts. “It’s late, you need to go back to bed, okay?” she said in a soft voice.

“What! How can I sleep now? Exciting things are happening. A real life Robin Hood just waltzed in here! Or maybe he’s more of a Susan Penvensie, I don’t know, but I know I’m gonna miss out on something if I go to bed now! And I…I’d reallyrathernot.” Said Peter looking down at his feet, and suddenly looking very small and even younger than his mid-teens and Clint wondered for a moment if he had misjudged the kid’s age. “And you didn’t answer my question, Wanda. And—And are really just gonna up and leave?” he asked as his eyes grew wide though it looked like he attempted to conceal the hurt in them, making him look younger again.

Wanda sighed sadly, “Yes. My real name is Wanda. And we can talk about that later, but please, Peter, I need you to go to bed. If I go anywhere, I won’t leave without letting you know.”

The boy looked at her for a second before answering in a huff. “Fine.” There was a blur of movement and a small rush of wind blew by Clint, and then it was just him and Wanda left in the room.

Wanda sighed again. “He’s going to hinder his recovery if he keeps that up. He’s not supposed to speed around too much; he’ll overwork his leg.” Said Wanda as if Clint had any idea what she was talking about.

Clint shook his head to clear it. He was still overwhelmed by the existence of the young speedster and wanted to ask her all about him, but he had a job to do. First, he needed to get them on the road.

Clint started to pull Wanda toward the door again, figuring she had just promised to tell the boy that she was leaving before she actually left Just as a way to get him to go to bed. Vision could tell him they’d gone.

“Clint!”

(Speaking of Vision.)

“You should not be here.” Said Vision who had phased through the window into the room. 

“Really?” replied Clint. “I retire for what? Like 5 minutes? And it all goes to shit.”

“Please consider the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay they’re considered.” Clint snapped back quickly as Vision moved closer.

(Just a little farther…)

Tzzzzzz! 

There was a crackle of electricity and visible electrical currents, as well as an oomph from Vision as he glided into the path of the arrows Clint had set up. 

“Okay. We gotta go.” Said Clint with a bit of nervous apologetic urgency, taking off toward the door again. He knew his trap wouldn’t hold Vision for long, but Wanda still didn’t follow him.

“I’ve caused enough trouble.” She said, turning away from Clint dejectedly.

“You gotta help me, Wanda.” Said Clint jogging back toward the girl. “You wanna mope? Go to high school. You wanna make amends? Then you Get. Off. Your Ass.” Clint put as much emphasis into each word as he could. He knew even before his pep talk that Wanda would come with him. She just needed the push.

“Shit.” Said Clint looking over Wanda’s shoulder at Vision who had used the mind stone on his forehead to blast away one of the arrows and break free of his electrical trap. 

(That was faster than I thought. Okay, here we go.)

Clint quickly pulled an arrow out of his quiver and attempted to shoot Vision, but the arrow just phased through him, and Vision grabbed his bow and shoved Clint onto the ground with his other hand.

Clint used the momentum of the hard shove to roll around and end back up on his knees ready to pounce.

(This is not going to go well.)

But out loud he said, “I knew I should’ve stretched.” Then he pulled out an expandable stave, jumped to his feet and rushed Vision with all he had.

It did not go well. 

Vision either let all of Clint’s hits phase through him or took the punches as if Clint were nothing more than a pesky fly, and Clint felt like he had really put some strength into the three consecutive punches to Vision’s face. Good thing Clint was comfortable with his own masculinity, or he might have felt a little demoralized.

Anyway, Clint ended up in a chokehold with Vision speaking calmly into his ear. “Clint. You can’t overpower me.”

“I know I can’t.” panted Clint. “But she can.” 

(And I know she will.)

At Clint’s words, the two men both looked up to meet the eyes of the formidable young woman circling them, “Vision, that’s enough. Let him go. I’m leaving.”

There was a red ball of energy glowing between Wanda’s hands as she made miniscule but graceful movements with her fingers to contain the orb. 

“I can’t let you.” Said Vision not releasing his hold on Clint, but then Wanda made her move.

Thrusting her arms apart, the orb between them grew a little larger, and the stone in Vision’s forehead glowed. Then Vision’s arms became intangible and Clint slid through them. Vision looked shocked as Wanda said, “I’m sorry.”

“If you do this, they will never stop being afraid of you.” Vision’s voice was strained under the pressure of Wanda’s powerful hold, which had forced him to his knees. The tiles around him had begun to crack.

“I can’t control their fear, only my own.” Said Wanda with an air of finality, stepping forward closer to Vision and pushing her hand down as she did so. The floor beneath Vision collapsed and Wanda sent him plummeting deep into the earth, forcing him down and down and down…

(Team Cap one. Team Iron Man zero.)

“Whoa.” Said Clint gazing down into the deep hole Wanda had created. He knew she was powerful, but knowing that and seeing it were two entirely different things. 

“C’mon.” said Clint again heading toward the door for what felt like the hundredth time. “We’ve got one more stop.” 

“Wait.” Said Wanda. “I have to tell Peter I’m leaving first. I promised I would.” 

As much as Clint’s thoughts were on the silver haired kid and wondering how he came to be, he was still going to respond that there was no time, when a long impressed whistle rang out from beside the hole in the floor. 

Looking over, Clint saw that the source of the whistle came from the young Peter Maximoff. He had swapped his sleepwear for silver converses, black pants, and a silver t-shirt that had red wings on the back in homage to falcon. He had a silver jacket draped over one arm. A girl with long auburn hair wearing skinny jeans, black combat boots, and a plain white v-neck t-shirt under a red leather jacket stood next to him looking a little nauseated. She looked to be around the same age as Peter, but not nearly as awake. She shared the boy’s dark brown eyes.

“Man! I knew I was gonna miss something if I went to bed! Like, holy hell—get it? Holely?—did you guys try to dig to China. Good thing I just changed and woke Wanda up. I would’ve been quicker, but someone is not a morning person.” Said Peter, giving the girl beside him a pointed look.

“Shut up, Pietro. You were already up. I’m more of a morning person than you are. This is just way to early to be considered morning.” Said the girl, tugging the boy back away from the hole, as though she didn’t trust him not to go careening down into it.

(Now who is this kid? Is this the sister, the other Wanda, he’d mentioned? My head hurts.)

“So we’re going some place, yea?” asked Peter—Pietro?—excitedly.

“No, not we, Peter. I have to go help Clint and Steve, but it could be dangerous. You two need to stay here.” Replied the Wanda Clint knew.

“Nuh-uh. No way. You aren’t leaving us here. Dad already did that. We want to help too. Right sis?” asked Peter, nudging the girl next to him. She glanced quickly down at his ankle before looking back up at him and answering with what seemed like a little reluctance, “Right. Whatever is going on out there in this world concerns us too.”

Wanda looked like she was going to absolute refuse to allow the kids to come, and Clint didn’t want to take kids with him either, but he knew Vision wouldn’t stay incapacitated forever.

“There’s no time to argue.” Said Clint speaking before anyone else could and looking at the older Wanda. “Unless you plan on stopping them like you did Vision, we’re going to have to let them come with. We’ll figure something out about it later. Let’s go.”

Clint strode off toward the door, finally making it out of the room on this attempt with the three younger people in tow. Both of the girls looked a little exasperated, but Peter had a triumphant smirk on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint has arrived! Finally. I've had the interaction between him and Peter running through my head for some time, and it was actually one of the reasons I was okay with doing this crossover. I hope you enjoyed the update. Thoughts? Please share. I love the feedback.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm thinking I'll be able to post one more chapter after this one before my summer is officially over, and I have to go on hiatus as life hits me in the face like a ton of bricks. Of course I'll post more if I have time, but unfortunately I cannot write for fun all day e'ry day. :( I won't abandon this story though. There just may be long stretches between updates, so be prepared. I apologize in advance.

ERIK POV

Despite all of the chaos that came along with handling the aftermath of an escape of a deadly psychotic soldier and the departure of rogue super soldier, Natasha had delivered on her promise to get Erik a jet back to the States. When he managed to find her after re-entering the government building, she'd only raised an eyebrow at him and asked what had happened.

When Erik recounted that Rogers and Barnes were gone before he had even made it to the roof and all that was left were the tattered remains of a helicopter in the water beside the building, Natasha had simply studied him for a moment before replying, 'Word must travel fast if you already know the circumstances surrounding the Captain and Barnes departure because _you_ were no where near that roof.' A silent understanding had passed between Erik and Natasha then. An understanding that for reasons Erik couldn't quite comprehend, Natasha had chosen to protect Erik, leaving him out of Barnes escape completely, so he could get back to his children.

Very shortly thereafter, Erik had boarded a private jet with only a pilot for company and started his journey back to the U.S. Just before they'd taken off Erik had tried to call both Wanda and Vison using the cell phone Natasha had given him, hoping he could talk to his children and let them know he was on his way back, but neither Avenger had answered.

Erik felt a seed of worry began to grow inside of him as he conjured up a number of dreadful scenarios as to why they weren't answering, but he forced himself to push those thoughts aside. There was a significant time difference between Berlin and the U.S. after all. Everyone could easily be sleeping or busy…or perhaps it was just the case that no one wanted to talk to him. Erik knew that last theory was preposterous as he was calling from Natasha's phone, so they wouldn't no it was him on the other end of the line anyway, but he couldn't help the fact that it had crossed his mind. And it was a better explanation than many of the other dark scenarios he had imagined a moment before.

Nevertheless, Erik told himself their lack of a response was no cause for alarm. Wanda and Pietro were safe. Though he may have tried to push this world's Wanda Maximoff away from his kids, Erik still knew she wouldn't let anything happen to them. No, his children were fine. They had to be tucked comfortably in bed with the largest threat to them being the nightmares that arose in their unconscious minds.

They were safe. They were safe. They were safe. Erik repeated that mantra to himself occasionally throughout the plane ride. He feared that if he did not he might accidently bring the metal flying contraption around him down into the ocean. Then he would never get to see his children's faces again, so Erik focused on his breathing, and mediated just as used to for years in order to make it through every painful hour of his metal-less prison.

What Erik didn't know was that no one answered his for an entirely different reason than any he had thought of or hoped to be true. Vision was currently preoccupied with alerting Tony of Clint's visit and departure with the Wandas and Pietro, so answering his phone was not his main priority. Nor did Erik know that Wanda had left her phone behind either in her haste to leave the Avenger's compound or the ingrained sense of avoiding the possibility of it being traced as she, Clint, and Erik's young twins made their own trip overseas.

* * *

CLINT POV

Immediately after Clint and the rest of his band of misfits had left the Avengers' Head Quarters, he had little chance to question _his_ Wanda about the kids they were currently dragging closer to something kids should definitely not be a part of. He'd had to explain what was up with Cap and Bucky, where they were going to meet them, not to mention the detour they had to make to pick up Cap's final reinforcement before they left the country.

The kids had been remarkably quiet and attentive during his explanation of events. Clint would never admit it, but he was actually a little disappointed that he didn't have to pull out his Dad voice to get them to listen.

Picking up Scott and convincing him to come with them had been surprisingly easy, though beyond getting to meet Captain America, Clint wasn't sure the guy completely comprehended what he was agreeing to. The man barely seemed awake enough to make it to their confiscated Avengers' vehicle, let alone the jet.

Scott didn't even seem to really register that Clint wasn't the only Avenger along for the ride, though he did seem to pick up on the presence of the two rather out of place teenagers. When Scott had noticed them, he had said, 'Whose kids? I guess even superheroes are allowed to have a bring your kid to work day, but we're going to go do dangerous adult things right? Was I supposed to bring my daughter? I'm not really sure it's a good day to bring kids along. Maybe we should schedule a safer job shadow experience on a day we have training or team building! That'd be fun! Oh! Neat hair!' the man had exclaimed with sincerity when he noticed Peter's silver locks before falling asleep because apparently it was still to early for him.

Once everyone was loaded up into the jet, excluding Scott. Clint had half dragged the man aboard, where he was out for the count again as soon as he sat down. Good Lord he needed a lot of sleep to function. Clint made a mental note to make a quick detour for coffee when they landed.

Even though Peter, and his sister Wanda too since he had informed her of Wanda's real name, were very interested in learning why Clint's Wanda (the Avengers' Wanda? This was going to get confusing) didn't tell them her real name, they didn't stay awake much longer than Scott. After the older Wanda refused to elaborate on why she withheld her true name other than saying it was to avoid confusion—which Peter had proposed before but didn't really seem to buy— they'd both passed out in adjacent chairs not long into the journey.

Only then, did Clint finally have a chance to interrogate Wanda, who had just walked into the cockpit of the jet and plopped down next to him, without interruption.

"Alright kid, spill." Said Clint glancing over at Wanda.

"Um spill, what?" asked Wanda, feigning confusion.

"Don't play dumb, Wanda. Cultural differences aside, I know you know what I mean. Explain to me the existence of mini Wanda and little speedy back there." Said Clint giving her his no nonsense look that he often used on his own kids as he jerked his thumb to the rear of the jet.

"Uh…well…it's a lot to explain." Said Wanda hesitantly.

"Well we're not exactly going for pizza, kid. This jet is fast, but it's still a long flight. Plenty long enough to explain why there's another Wanda and Peter—Pietro?—Maximoff currently in dream world back there." Said Clint briefly looking in one of the cockpit's mirrors, which gave him a view of the back of the jet.

In one chair, Scott was passed out looking like you could light a fire under him and he wouldn't even notice. Across the isle the two teenagers were sprawled out on two other seats. Despite somewhat remaining on the two separate chairs, they were still huddled pretty close together. Peter had fallen asleep with his head on his sister's shoulder and one leg kicked up over her lap. Clint had to admit they looked pretty darn adorable, reminding him again they definitely shouldn't be involved in what was to come. They were not soldiers. They weren't old enough for a war, no matter how small the size of the armies might be.

Clint looked back at the Wanda sitting next to him, since she still hadn't started an explanation, he thought he better prompt her and just be direct as he needed to be. "Wanda…you didn't let someone experiment on you again, did you? They're not…clones of you and your brother, are they?"

"What! No! Of course not! How could you think that?" answered Wanda appalled.

"Okay, okay! Calm down! But what was I supposed to think? Is that really so farfetched? Who are they then? Because you're sitting in front of me, so the younger girl is definitely not you, and that boy doesn't look exactly like your Pietro—I'm guessing your brother was never quite _that_ skinny—but he's got super speed, and I'm guessing that means the girl has powers like yours, am I right? So just tell me what happened, or I'm just going to conjure up theories that involve a lot of unnatural scientific mojo that kids should never be subjected to." Clint looked over at Wanda again as he finished, giving her another hard look.

He didn't want to believe that Wanda had resorted to any dark…science? Magic? (hey anything was possible) in an attempt to bring back some version of her brother, but love made people do crazy things.

"It's nothing like that." Said Wanda quickly, letting out a heavy sigh. "The girl isn't me, obviously, or a clone…and I know the boy is not my brother…not really….I…there's really no good way to explain this, so I'm just going to say it: they're a Wanda and Pietro Maximoff from another universe."

_Um what?_

"Run that by me one more time." Said Clint stunned.

"So apparently, there is another universe—a parallel universe?—maybe multiple universes, where other versions of Pietro and I exist. They came from one of those universes." Explained Wanda matter-of-factly.

_Alright then._

Clint accept this because that's what his life had come to now. Inter-dimensional travel was no longer the thing of science fiction films. Earth had already encountered people from other dimensions, some good….a lot bad. Some who liked to wear a helmet with antlers and others who ran around in capes, so sure, enhanced teenagers could definitely fit into the category of other worldly beings.

"Okaaay." Said Clint slowly. "So I wasn't expecting that, but I guess given everything we've been through, I probably shouldn't be so surprised…but Wanda, I know you miss your brother. I can't even imagine how much you miss him, but did you really think it was a good idea to uproot two kids from their lives…from their world? You just admitted he's not really your brother. Don't you think that maybe they belong in their own universe?" Clint said, trying not to sound too critical.

"I know that." Said Wanda defensively. "And I didn't bring them here. The other Wanda did, by accident. She thought her brother was dead and she just sort of just…let loose…she's not as great as I am at controlling her powers." Wanda joked sarcastically. Clint knew Wanda didn't really feel like she had much control over her own powers, even with all of the training she'd had with the Avengers since her brother's death.

"Okay." Said Clint again. "And they couldn't get back to their own universe? Or did they not want to go back? I guess I get that, if their childhood was like yours. Getting experimented on and developing powers at even a younger age than you and your brother has to be traumatizing."

_Even if they volunteered for it. They're just kids. They couldn't understand what they were volunteering for. Heck, Wanda and Pietro were older and they probably didn't really understand._

"I don't think they've tried to get back yet actually." Replied Wanda thoughtfully. "There's just been a lot going on, and Pie—Peter has been recovering. You probably noticed he's not exactly an image of health. Unlike Pietro and me, they were born with their powers. People with abilities…with gifts…like them are called mutants in their world, but that didn't stop their government from kidnapping, torturing, and experimenting on Peter. I guess evil transcends space and time." Wanda finished practically spitting out her words in disgust and bitterness.

Clint let that sink in for a moment.

_No wonder the kid was a little skittish when I met him._

"Maybe, but evil spans the universes than so does good. They're lucky to have wound up here with the Avengers though. Lucky you're looking out for them…but I guess I kinda screwed up your job in that regard, since I'm flying them straight into danger….Cap's gonna flip out, maybe even let loose a swear word, when he sees we have kids with us."

"It wasn't exactly luck. Tony and Maria brought them in pretty much against their will after they picked up a spike in energy readings around the farm where they were staying, and then once they found out they were enhanced…well of course those two were going to bring the kids in. And if you think Cap is going to be upset, I assure you, his anger is going to be nothing compared to their father's when he finds out they're not at the Avengers' Head Quarters anymore." Said Wanda.

"Wait. Their dad? They're parents are here too? Are they…do they resemble your parents?" asked Clint hesitantly. Having a version of your dead parents around on top of meeting a version of yourself and dead brother had to be rough.

_Kid can't catch a break._

"No. It's just their dad. I think…I think their mom died when they were little. I looked into their father's mind, and accidently got a little more information than I had planned, but their dad has enough parental instincts for 10 people…and no, he's not like my dad, not even a little bit…well beyond loving his kids above all else." Answered Wanda, looking as though she were caught up in a memory. Clint wondered if it was her own or of the one belonging to the younger twins' father.

"Did we just take his kids right out from under his nose then?" asked Clint, trying to lighten the mood. "Was he sleeping through all of our commotion back at HQ? Because, I mean it would've been nice if he would have backed us up and said, 'No kids. You won't be going to a foreign country to help a couple of super powered people fight a bunch of other super powered people. Go back to bed, and in the morning I'll make waffles.' Said Clint, half joking, half serious.

Next to him, Wanda was silent before letting out a surprisingly loud and genuine laugh. It was nice to hear her laugh. She was grim far too often. "Sorry." She said as she wiped a tear from one eye. "I'm sure Erik—that's their dad's name—can cook. It's just, I pictured him wearing an apron and making waffles. If you'd met him, you'd find the image pretty funny too." Said Wanda pausing to take a breath and control her laughter, before growing far too serious for Clint's liking again, "And he wasn't at HQ anyway. Ross coerced him into bringing in Bucky, but now that Bucky's escaped, I'm not sure where Erik is."

"Why would Ross want their dad to help bring in Barnes?" asked Clint confused. "What made him think one man could do more than a bunch of trained government agents when he wouldn't even give permission to Steve to get Barnes?"

"He can control metal." Replied Wanda simply.

_At this point, I really should get better at guessing this kind of stuff._

"Well shit." Said Clint. "I supposed that would do it."

"Yes and being that metal is a pretty common commodity, you can see why it'd be a bad idea to make Erik angry…which taking his kids into what is likely to be a battle definitely qualifies as something that would make him angry." Wanda sighed (she was doing an awful lot of that). "And he is already not too fond of me, and unlike his kids, he knows all about my brother and me, and he doesn't like the idea of me getting involved in his children's lives…I can't say I blame him."

Clint frowned. He did not like the fact that Wanda thought so little of herself. He knew she had plenty of reasons—maybe some valid ones—to have a low opinion of herself, but overall, she was a good person. And when it mattered, she did what was right.

"Hey. Anybody would be blessed to have you in their life. You are a joy to be around…you know, when you're not shoving people a hundred stories or more underground…but the kids really don't know anything about who you really are? Don't you think they deserve to know?" asked Clint looking over at Wanda who had drawn one leg up onto the seat and now had her chin resting on her knee.

"Why tell them? It would only serve to upset them. Did you notice Peter's arm? I caught him cutting himself with a butcher knife the other night. He's not emotionally stable enough for me to have any conversation with him along those lines, and I don't want to push that on him either. He's a great kid and so is his sister. And I really do feel like they're my little siblings…but I don't want Peter to think I'm using him to replace my brother or that I'm stealing Wanda's brother from her. I like them for who they are, not for who I wish they were, and they have enough to deal with without me laying my own life story on them. They're dad's right. It would only cause them more pain, and they definitely don't need that." Said Wanda looking straight ahead out the window and not at Clint.

Clint let the silence hang between them for a moment. He wasn't really a vindictive guy, but knowing that someone had caused a kid enough physical pain and emotional turmoil that he'd wanted to hurt himself, made Clint want to hurt that someone or someones very much. And he understood Wanda's reasoning, but he didn't like to see her hurting either.

_Why does the world (worlds?) keep throwing shit at a bunch of innocent kids?_

He wasn't just thinking of the younger twins, but also the Avenger's Wanda too.

Focusing on what he could do, instead of a vengeful fantasy. Clint decided to do what he could to try help the one kid who was awake beside him. "Did you ever think that maybe you wouldn't be adding to their pain, but that sharing your pain and what you've gone through would help them deal with their own experiences?"

Wanda didn't answer right away, but he could tell by the look on her face that no, she hadn't considered that, but she wasn't immediately inclined to believe it. Clint just hoped she wasn't immediately inclined to disbelieve it.

"I just…I shouldn't get close to them anyway. They aren't going to be here forever. I can tell that their dad for sure is itching to get back to their own world, and it's no good for any of us to get to know one another more than we need to if we're just going to be out of each other's life soon anyway."

"Kid, that's not a good enough reason to shut them out and you know it. With what we do—or what I used to do—any one of us could be here today and gone tomorrow. That doesn't mean we should stop living…stop loving people. You might not have felt like it when you first lost him, but aren't you glad now that you had the time you did with your brother rather than no time at all? Sure, it might save you pain, but I'd imagine you'd regret it if you lost those memories. Heck, I worry about my kids and wife everyday, and I know they worry about me, but that doesn't mean any of us wish we weren't in each other's lives just because we're afraid to lose each other. You can't live in isolation Wanda. That's not living. That's just existing." Said Clint sharing something that he had had to figure out on his own long ago.

"But what if I tell them, and they don't want to get to know me or it's just too weird for them" asked Wanda quietly, still not looking at Clint.

"Well then you'll know you tried and you do your best to accept their response and move on, or give them enough space and hope they'll come around. But have you met them? They both seem a little weird. I think they can handle a little more weirdness. Not to mention the fact that they were so adamant about being involved with what we're doing…something tells me they will want to be involved in your life too." Clint responded confidently.

Wanda didn't look like she completely believed him, but he thought he saw a little bit of hope in her expression that wasn't there before. And she didn't seem like she wasn't going to argue with him again, so Clint counted that as progress.

_Right. That's enough heavy talk for now. Time for a more lighthearted conversation for the rest of our flight._

"So Wanda, do you think you could hook me up with some of those Hawkeye pajamas Peter was wearing for my kids? Right now all they have are Iron Man and Captain America pjs and I really think that needs to change."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone who has left feedback and kudos! You make writing this so much more fun! Side note: I got it to format correctly in rich text when I copied and pasted, so you all got italics this time. :)


	31. Chapter 31

ERIK POV

As soon as Erik's feet hit the tarmac back in the U.S., he felt a huge amount of relief. On the short car ride up to the Avengers compound, he considered trying to call Wanda and Pietro again. He almost did, but at that point he figured he might as well just surprise them, so instead he made an impulsive decision and gave Al a call, updating him on their lives as best he could.

The farmer didn't say much, but he did let Erik know that he and his children would always be welcome in Al's home, and though neither of them said it, they both seemed to know that Erik, Pietro, and Wanda wouldn't return there, unless there was a chance that being close to where they entered this universe would help them get back to their own.

Though this realization was a surprisingly difficult one to come to terms with for Erik, who despite his inherent distrust of others, he had come to believe that Al was truly a selfless person whom he and his children could rely on. But in the end that realization was something Erik could accept.

Erik valued Al's kindness and acceptance more than the farmer could ever know, and though for a moment Al's, Erik's, Wanda's, and Pietro's lives had become intertwined, he knew it couldn't be that way forever. Their lives had crossed and they had all helped each other start to gain back something they had lost, but now they had to go their separate ways. It was just how it had to be. Erik and his children didn't belong in this world, and Erik knew that Al recognized that.

A few short minutes after he hung up with Al, Erik made his way into the Avengers' Headquarters toward the area where he and his children had been staying. Erik walked by quite a few faceless government agents scrambling about, probably trying to deal with the fiasco of Barnes's escape and Captain Roger's AWOL status, but the only person he recognized as he strode through the building was Agent Hill.

Erik did not stop to chat. He had no desire to talk to the woman who, along with Stark, was chiefly responsible for bringing him and his children into the Avengers' custody against their will in the first place and likely causing unnecessary and irreparable stress to Wanda and Pietro…especially Pietro.

Though Erik had to admit there did exist a positive side to their internment. Pietro had been able to receive proper medical care and a legitimate recovery plan, but it still didn't mean that Erik had forgiven the kidnapping.

Yet for the moment, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting back to his children. That was his sole focus, which wasn't a bad thing, but it did prevent Erik from noticing that Agent Hill had followed him into the Avenger's quarters, trailing just far enough behind that should his focus stray for a moment, he wouldn't notice her.

Erik glanced briefly into Pietro and Wanda's rooms as he passed, since the doors were already partly open. Finding both rooms empty, he continued on into the common area, but they weren't there either. No one was. There was however a giant gaping hole in the middle of the room. The relief that Erik had felt as soon as he touched down in America was quickly fading.

Erik stepped forward cautiously and peered down into the hole. There wasn't much to see. It was too dark and seemed to go down forever. Now Erik was confused, worried, and somewhat fearful. What sort of altercation could have caused such destruction? But more importantly, where were his children? Erik's heart began to beat dangerously fast. What if they were lying injured at the bottom of the hole?...or…or dead?

Desperation growing, Erik called out, "Wanda? Pietro?" as if simply speaking their names would make his children appear instantly and completely well and whole before him. It wasn't so farfetched a hope. With Pietro having recovered a little bit more, it was actually a true possibility that the boy might come flying into the room, even though Erik had been trying hard to get his son to listen to Dr. Cho's orders and take it easy.

Surprisingly, a voice answered him, but it didn't belong to either of the people he was hoping to find. "They're not here."

Erik turned around to find the dark haired woman he recognized as Maria Hill standing in the doorway.

"What. Do. You. Mean. They aren't here?" Erik growled out emphasizing every word, even though part of him was relieved. He wasn't entirely sure what the woman meant, but if they weren't here, then that also meant they weren't lying at the bottom of the endless pit.

"Surveillance video shows that after Wanda—the Avenger's Wanda—" Hill clarified, "incapacitated Vision—I see you've noticed the hole—she and your kids left with Clint."

"What?!" demanded Erik still thoroughly confused. "Who is Clint?! WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN!?" Erik yelled out the final question unable to contain his anger and frustration any longer, pulling Maria toward him by the zipper of her jumpsuit as his words rang out.

"Calm down Mr. Lensherr." Said Maria calmly and seemingly unperturbed by the angry father and his tele-magnetic abilities. "Clint is a former Avenger, and though he arguably may not be making the best choices right now, he is no danger to your children. It looks like he and Wanda have chosen to assist Captain Rogers in any way they can, and it seems as though your children refused to be left behind."

Erik processed this information but did not release his hold on Agent Hill, even though he believed she was telling the truth. His mind was reeling as the familiar feeling of guilt and regret began to rise up in Erik's chest. Maybe he shouldn't have let Rogers leave with Barnes. Then there wouldn't have been anyone for his children, with their unparalleled drive to do good, to run off to help.

But Erik knew that wasn't the action he should be regretting. No the bigger issue was that he had left his children behind in the first place. If he wouldn't have left them, they might not have felt the need to try to leave, or he could have at least gone with them, and who's to say that Captain Rogers wouldn't have been completely capable of escaping with Barnes without Erik's assistance.

Though Agent Hill had explained who his children were with, she had not yet truly answered the question of their location, which was just as important to know, so Erik persisted in his questioning. "Where are they?!" he demanded again only slightly calmer, though he could feel silverware and other metal objects rattling about in drawers and cabinets. The fact that his children were in the company of the other Wanda was helping retain some semblance of control on his emotions because he knew that their safety would be of the utmost priority to her, even though he cursed her silently for letting them accompany her in the first place. It was still difficult to resist the urge to impale the only person who may be able to tell him were his children were.

"We believe Rogers and Barnes will try to leave Germany soon, so they'll need a plane. The most logical place they'll be headed to obtain one is the Leipzig/Halle airport. That's where the rest of the Avengers still acting under the orders of U.S. government have set off for, and that's where Clint, Wanda, and most likely your children will be too." Answered Hill.

Erik muttered something incomprehensible in German. It would be his luck—no not luck, fitting punishment for all his sins and mistakes—that he'd come back to America only to find his kids had taken off for the country he had only just left.

"Take me there. NOW." Said Erik in a commanding voice.

" _I_ can't just hijack one of our jets and take you there without an order to do so, as I'd like to keep my job." said Hill to Erik. Still very calm in the face of his rage.

Erik pulled the woman even closer to him so that they were eye to eye and said in a scarily calm voice, "I don't care what your orders are. You _will_ take me to my children or—"

"If you'd let me finish." Said Hill quickly continuing before Erik could interrupt or quite possibly kill her. " _I_ can't take you there…but I think I know someone who can. She owes me a favor, and it's time to collect."

* * *

CLINT POV

When they landed in Germany the twins were very much awake and despite the circumstances, Pietro was particularly excited about being overseas.

"I feel so worldly! I've never been out of the country before! Well, I guess I did run to Canada and Mexico once when I was looking for…anyway those don't really count, so basically this is my first time abroad!"

"Peter, you do realize we were born in a foreign country and spent like the first few years of our lives there, right?" asked his sister sounding a tad exasperated and Clint thought perhaps a little guilty, but he wasn't sure why she would feel that way. He didn't have time to dwell on it though as Wanda continued on, "And how are you so excited about this? We're already in a foreign universe _and_ a foreign time period. Doesn't that trump being in a foreign country?"

"Pffft America is America no matter the universe or time, and we were like barely out of diapers when we came to the U.S. I hardly even remember life before that, so that time doesn't count either. Hence, this is the first time." Reasoned Pietro.

With all of the chattering the teenagers were doing, Clint was starting to wish he could have slept through the plane ride along with them and Scott. Speaking of which, though Wanda and Pietro were talking fairly loudly, it did not seem to be loud enough to wake their newest recruit. Unfortunately, the man was still dazed and somehow already jet lagged, even though he had slept throughout the majority of flight there. Clint had had to half drag the man, while he was mumbling incoherently, to the van they had 'borrowed' before Scott passed out again. At this rate, it seemed to Clint that the man would sleep for days, and that would not be very helpful to anyone.

"First things first, we need to get coffee in this guy." Said Clint interrupting the teenagers as he jerked his thumb back toward Scott who was lying across the middle row of seats. "or he's not going to be a very useful reinforcement for Cap."

"And we need donuts!" Pietro added from the back of the van where he was seated with his sister. "I'd say we need at least two dozen. Wait. Are you guys going to eat too? How many donuts will you eat? Maybe we should get more just to be safe. I'm sooooo hungry, and I need to fuel up before we go have our epic superhero faceoff or showdown or fight or whatever you're calling it."

"Two dozen donuts? Really?" asked Clint impressed by the kid's appetite. "And _you_ are not fighting."

Nope. No fighting would be done by underage individuals, not on Clint's watch. He already hated the fact that the elder Wanda would most likely have to fight, but there was nothing he could do about that. She had experience and as much as she was still a kid in his eyes, in reality she was legally an adult, so she was allowed to make her own decisions. But the twins currently residing in the very back of the vehicle were still very much children, and did not belong anywhere near a battlefield, regardless of their abilities, and since they were for the time under his care, it was his responsibility to keep them out of harm's way. He also would never be able to live with himself if was responsible for the death of another Pietro Maximoff.

But Clint had yet figured out how he was going to stop them from getting involved, since keeping them back in the U.S. had worked out oh so well. How was he supposed to control a couple of super powered kids? All he had was a bow and arrow, which would not be very helpful in dealing with spirited teenagers.

_I guess I'll have to rely on my super persuasive parenting skills._

Pietro's voice pulled Clint from his thoughts, "Hey! No food shaming! I need the extra calories to keep this lean mean fighting machine up and running. And, dude, we're totally going to fight if this showdown comes to that. Face it. You need us. Right now you've got a guy with a sleeping disorder, adult Wanda—who yea, okay seems like a total bad ass—and yourself equipped with just a bow and arrow, which you seem like you'd be pretty skilled with too but it's not really a century relevant weapon, so back up is definitely in order. Trust me. You want Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch on your side. Those are our code names by the way. Pretty cool, amIright?" finished Pietro hardly pausing to breathe.

Clint decided not to try arguing with the kid just yet, thinking maybe it would better to have the Captain around to help him convince the twins to stay behind. Beyond noticing that this younger Pietro and Wanda had chosen the same codenames as the Maximoffs in this world, Clint also noticed that Peter's sister remained curiously quiet during her brother's rant, and as Clint occasionally glanced in the review mirror while the kid was speaking, Clint noticed the girl had a pained look on her face when her brother mentioned fighting.

But the girl still beat him to the punch when it came to responding, though unlike her brother she didn't mention fighting at all, instead focusing on the matter of food, "It's true. Even though his sweet tooth might be atrocious, Pete does need quite a bit more food than a regular person."

The older Wanda, who was riding shotgun beside him added, "My brother had a similar issue. We really should get Peter food soon." Clint thought she sounded rather guilty at not having had the foresight to remember this fact about speedster's metabolisms, but then her tone changed into that of a scolding voice as she spoke loud enough to be heard in the back of the van, "But I did tell you to bring your Ensure shakes, Peter. You know you need those to help you gain weight. Why didn't you bring them?"

"I forgot! Which is not my fault. I got distracted. You shoved Vision down a giant hole! Yea Wanda and I figured out that's what had to have happened because spending the past few days with you and him we noticed he's pretty close with the Stark guy, who it seems is disagreeing with the Captain, who just wants to help his friend…Anyway, it bigoggled my mind, okay!" Pietro explained quickly.

"Bigoggled isn't a word, Pete." His sister answered before the other Wanda could. "The word you're searching for is boggled."

"Oh isn't it a word though? You knew what I meant, soooo I'd say I just invented a new word, and I haven't even had breakfast yet." Countered Peter giving his sister a sly look and sticking his tongue out at her.

"You're impossible." Said Wanda giving him a gentle shove "You can't just declare something a word. That's not how it wor—"

"Okay! Stop arguing back there or I swear I will turn this car around!" said Clint loudly silencing the twins. Beside him Wanda barely tried to cover a laugh with a cough.

Clint knew he should probably be embarrassed by his dad moment, but he really wasn't. Once you became a parent, nothing much embarrassed you anymore. Besides his little outburst had worked to momentarily control the teenagers, so now he could think straight for a moment. One mission accomplished. Clint didn't think about it before, but dealing with Wanda and Peter's antics was actually good practice for when his kids became teenagers themselves.

"We can get donuts too." Clint finally announced, resulting in a victory air punch from Peter that Clint caught in his review mirror. " _If_ there's no more fighting back there that is."

"Done." Said Wanda and Pietro together.

"Good." Said Clint. Though he was a little unsettled by the creepy in sync twin response, he would never actually withhold food from them, not even if they started arguing again. He didn't use food depravation as a form of punishment with his own kids, and he was definitely not about to do it to a kid who needed a lot more food than a normal hungry teenager.

"Though we weren't really fighting. We were just having conversation." Pietro added.

Clint just rolled his eyes and said, "Just somebody start trying to rouse sleeping beauty so he can actually drink coffee when we get it."

* * *

ERIK POV

It took longer than Erik would've like to get back in the air headed toward Germany. Not for the first time, it crossed Erik's mind that it'd be a lot easier and he'd be a lot less helpless if he learned how to pilot a plane or jet. It wasn't practical to think he could actually use his powers to compel a plane across an entire ocean. It would be tiring and entirely too slow. Erik made a silent vow to himself to _politely_ ask Hank to teach him how to fly when they were back to their own universe.

Erik supposed he could ask his current acting chauffeur for a quick rundown on flight basics as there wasn't much to do during the flight, besides of course go out of his mind with worry for his children, but he quickly took that idea off the table. His pilot wasn't the most personable or approachable person—which was saying something coming from Erik—so he wasn't about to ask her for a favor.

Though the two occupants of the jet had not conversed very much at all, Erik didn't really mind. He actually greatly appreciated the pilot's focused and no-nonsense demeanor.

Not that Erik was ever one to think that women weren't just as capable as men, but he had to admit, it did still throw him when he his would be pilot turned out to be a small Asian woman known only as Agent May. The woman didn't seem overjoyed to be acting as Erik's personal source of transport, but she kept her complaints to herself.

"How long until we reach Germany?" asked Erik frustrated by the distance separating him and his children.

"As long as it takes to get there." Answered Agent May unhelpfully. "I didn't ask questions as to why you need to get to Germany, so don't ask me questions."

"It's a fairly simple question." Erik muttered under his breath, remembering he shouldn't anger the person who was ferrying him to Germany. He was surprised that Agent Hill hadn't told May why he needed to get to Germany, but he was glad she hadn't. It was no one's business but his own, and enough people in this world already knew about his children.

"It's really not. You're obviously inhuman, so that adds an unknown variable to the mix. Whether or not you have made enemies, as an inhuman, there is already an increased threat on your life, which means there's a greater chance will encounter hostiles, thereby delaying our flight." Replied Agent May.

"How—I'm not—why would automatically reach the conclusion that I am inhuman?" asked Erik. He hadn't been planning to reveal his powers to this woman unless it became necessary for some reason, but she seemed so certain that he wanted to know for future reference why she had made that inference.

May just raised an eyebrow at him without taking her eyes off of the empty sky in front of them, before releasing a quick huff of air that might have been her equivalent to a laugh, "Normal people do not dress like that." She nodded at Erik's outfit and he glanced down his eyebrows furrowed together.

Before their departure, he had quickly changed back into his battle attire, cape included, and helmet in hand. He grudgingly had to admit that she probably had a point.

"And you've been messing with that coin since we took off." Added May.

Erik looked down at his hand, and sure enough he had been revolving a coin around his fingers without touching it. He let the coin fall into his palm, cursing himself for so carelessly displaying his power. He knew why he hadn't noticed he was doing it. It was a habit he had picked up years before in his search for Shaw. Though Erik no longer had the same coin he had failed to move in order to save his mother's life and that he had eventually used to kill Shaw, when he was on the hunt for Shaw he would often rotate the coin around one hand when he was feeling particularly stressed.

Apparently, neither his time in prison without metal nor his discarding of that particular coin had freed Erik from his habit. He'd once again resorted to twirling a coin, this time of the American variety, about when he was feeling stressed, and with his children gone, Erik was definitely stressed.

But Erik didn't share any of these feelings with May, instead he just said, "You don't seem particularly concerned by that revelation."

"I've dealt with inhumans and I've worked with inhumans." said May. "Just like humans, some are good and some are bad. I don't know which category you fall into, but right now it's not in your best interest to kill me, so why should I be concerned? Besides I can take care of myself."

Erik didn't doubt it. Despite probably being human, based on how she spoke about inhumans, Erik could tell she would put up a fight if someone tried to take her down. But regardless of her abilities, Erik couldn't help but focus on her words. Was he a good person? Was he a bad person? He'd certainly done horrible things in the past, but Erik realized it didn't matter what he thought of himself. It only mattered what his children thought. And he couldn't help but wonder, when he finally reached them would Wanda and Pietro see a man that they thought could be a good father? Or did they leave for a reason other than the desire to help people like themselves? Did they leave, because…they didn't want Erik to follow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! I had more time and got further than I thought with writing, so there will be at least one more update in the coming week or two. Reviews are welcome in any form. Thank you everyone so so much for all of the support! It is greatly appreciated. Also, do you all think I should try to give a better description of the story or update the story’s summary in any way? I know the current summary doesn’t reveal much, and with all of the tags, it could be difficult to see what the story will be about.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the final chapter for the summer. I don't know when I'll have time to write more for this story again, but I'll try to update when I can. Thanks for following this story, and I hope you're intrigued and patient enough to stick around.

X-MEN WANDA POV

After they'd stopped for coffee and donuts—much to Peter's pleasure—Clint had instructed the twins to remain in the van when they reached the rendezvous point. He wanted to try to smooth things over with Cap before unveiling that he had two minors with him. He knew Cap. wouldn't be pleased about their presence. Honestly, Wanda wasn't too happy about it either.

They were just a minute or two out from the rendezvous point now. Wanda looked over at her brother who was happily shoving the last bite of the remaining donut into his mouth, leaving a smear of chocolate on the side of his lips. Noticing his sister watching him he looked at her apologetically and said, "Oh. Did you want the last donut? Sorry. Maybe I could convince Legolas to get us some more?"

"That's alright Pete." Said Wanda giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm good. I didn't want it."

No. The last donut was not what she wanted. What she really wanted was for her brother to be far away from whatever danger they were approaching. When Pietro had woken her up not so long ago at the Avengers' compound, she'd only agreed to go with him on this 'quest' because he had seemed so excited to be doing something, and Wanda hadn't really been awake enough to think things through, beyond knowing that she also wanted to help fight for the rights of people who were different like them.

_Why oh why, Pietro, do you and danger seek each other out so often?_

But now she had had plenty of time to think. Her brother was still recovering. He probably thought she hadn't noticed, but when they'd zipped onto the plane back in the U.S., she had seen him clutch at his ankle for a moment. He was still getting around better than she would've thought possible only a week ago, but he was still hurt. Whatever super speed buzzing about he'd done before waking her up, had started to wear on his injured leg.

God she hoped Clint and the Captain could come up with a way to keep them from getting involved in a fight. Wanda desperately wanted to be involved, but she couldn't be, not if it meant dragging her brother into it. Even if he possessed an amazing power and he wasn't currently in recover, Pietro was still not a fighter, at least not when it came to physical combat. That had always been her job.

She was the one who used to bite and scratch at Bryan in an attempt to get him away from her brother, until the man forcibly picked her up and locked her in a closet while he did whatever he pleased to Pietro. She was the one who stood up to the kids that teased her brother for having odd hair or being too skinny or too pale, even if it meant no one would be her friend either.

Not that Pietro wasn't brave or powerful. It was just…he was too innocent and too kind-hearted to stomach what might need to be done in a fight. He'd rather take the pain, then lash out at someone, and that quality, though beautiful, could one day cost him his life, and that was what Wanda lived in fear of everyday.

Wanda's heart wasn't that pure. She didn't possess that intrinsic goodness. She didn't know if she ever had, not in the way that Pietro did. At 15 she already had one kill under her belt and the thing was, she didn't regret it. It had been hard to deal with at first, but not anymore. Now she realized she would stop anyone who was a threat to her brother, even if it meant killing them. Maybe that meant Wanda was dysfunctional, even insane, but again, Wanda couldn't find it in herself to care. Anyone who tried to hurt or snuff out her brother's life didn't deserve a life of their own.

Other people might not understand that—well maybe Erik could—but no one else had grown up with Pietro from birth. No one else had shared almost every moment of his or her life with Pietro, until of course Wanda had chosen to walk away because she thought it was the right thing to do. The best thing for Pietro. She thought she was protecting him from herself by leaving, but then she had to find out the hard way that there were people a lot worse than her in the world. And Wanda would have to live with that every day.

Clint's voice pulled Wanda from her self-debasing thoughts, and she turned away from her brother, who thankfully appeared to be completely oblivious to her thoughts.

"Alright, so remember, Wanda, Peter, stay in the van. Cap. won't be able to see through the tinted windows, but stay quiet because he might hear you if you talk too loudly. I'll introduce Scott to him and smooth things over. Capisce?" said Clint as they pulled into a parking ramp.

Scott was awake now but still lying down on the middle row of seats apparently not awake enough to be vocal. Through the back window of the van, Wanda could see Captain Rogers, Sam Wilson, along with another man who had to be the Winter Soldier already waiting outside in the ramp.

"Yep yep. No problem. Can do. We'll just sit here confined in this vehicle for a few more minutes. Nobigdeal. Easy-peasy. Cando." Pietro answered his uninjured leg bouncy up and down. Being stuck in a car had never been easy for Pietro, and now after what he'd been through it was probably harder to endure than ever. And he'd already done remarkably well with being on a plane for an extended period of time, though he'd been asleep for most of the flight.

"I'm right here with you, Pete." Wanda said quietly to her brother so only he could hear, and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Thanks Wands." Pietro replied just as quietly giving her a half smile and squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go, as if he wanted to appear completely unfazed by Clint's request.

"Okay then." Said Clint not having heard any of their conversation. "Here goes nothing."

Clint put the van in park and he and the elder Wanda exited the vehicle, closing the van doors behind them.

"Cap." Wanda heard Clint say as he nodded at the Steve Rogers. He was right; they did have to be quiet. If Wanda could hear Clint, then Captain Rogers would probably be able to hear Pietro and herself if they spoke, but right now her brother was just as silent and focused on the outside conversation as she was, so maybe being stuck in the van wouldn't be as difficult for him as she'd first thought. Though the reason Pietro was probably concentrating so hard on the conversation outside was to distract himself from their confinement.

"You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice." Steve said to Clint looking apologetic.

"Hey man, you're doing me a favor. Besides…I'm on your team." Answered Clint nonchalantly shrugging.

"Thanks for having my back." Said Steve giving him an appreciative smile.

"It was time to get off my ass anyway." Replied Clint bluntly.

"How about our other recruit?" asked Steve. Small talk appeared to be over. It seemed the Captain wanted to get straight to the point.

"He's rearing to go." Said Clint turning back toward the van and opening the door. Wanda put her arm out and pulled her brother back. Clint had warned them he would be opening the door to retrieve Scott, and he didn't think they would be seen when the door slid. But she thought it was better to be cautious. Not that Wanda really cared if they were seen now or later, but they'd agreed to give Clint the chance to talk it out with Captain Rogers first, so she felt obligated to give him that opportunity.

"I had to put a little coffee in him, but…he should be good." Said Clint stepping aside to reveal Scott who jumped a little at the sound of the door opening. Wanda glanced over at Pietro and saw that he had put a hand to his mouth to hold back a snicker, and Wanda found a smile forming on her own face in response to her brother's momentary amusement.

In front of them, Scott sat up and crawled out of the van looking disgruntled, "What time zone is this?"

Clint didn't respond to the man's question. Instead he just said, "Come on. Come on." As he gave Scott a shove forward. Wanda was thankful that the van was long enough that the open door didn't cover the back window, and it was nice to be able to hear the conversation a little more clearly now that the door was open.

Wanda watched as Scott stumbled forward, finally noticing Rogers. "Ca—Captain America." Said Scott in awe shaking Steve's hand enthusiastically.

"Mr. Lang." Steve replied professionally allowing his hand to be shaken up and down almost comically.

"It's an honor. I'm shaking your hand to long." Said Scott finally releasing his grip on the Captain's hand and turning back around toward Clint and the other Wanda. "Wow! This is awesome. Captain America!" said Scott pointing at Steve as if he couldn't quite believe this was real life. Then he pointed at the elder Wanda and said with a large smile on his face as if he was just now comprehending that the other Avenger was with them as well. "I know you too. You're great!"

"Jeez." Said Scott turning back around and clasping both his hands around Steve's shoulder's in amazement. Wanda understood his awe. The Captain did have an impressive build.

"Ah, look I want to say." Scott continued clapping his hands together nervously. "I know you know a lot of super people, so…thanks for thanking of me."

Wanda was pretty sure Scott had meant to say thinking, instead of thanking, but she guessed the guy was pretty star struck, so he wasn't quite managing to be supremely articulate. Though it seemed that Scott might just be sort of a spaz in general, so it could be that was just how he was all the time. But his demeanor didn't bother Wanda. It actually reminded her of Pietro in a way, so she found it enduring rather than annoying.

"Hey man." Scott said turning and pointing at Sam.

_He's really doing a lot of pointing. I wonder if that's a nervous tick._

"What's up tic-tac?" Sam answered serious faced and arms crossed.

Scott's face also became a little more serious as he replied. "Uh good to see you. Look. What happened last time was—"

"It was a great audition." Said Sam cutting Scott off and giving a smile and a shrug, shaking his head a little. "But it'll…it'll never happen again."

Scott looked a little confused by this response, and admittedly, Wanda was confused too. Obviously the two had met before, which made sense if they'd recruited him, but couldn't this conversation be continued at a different time? Clint needed to hurry up and explain that she and Pietro were there. She could tell her brother was getting antsy again, especially now that the van door was open and the path to freedom was just a few short steps away.

"Did he tell you what we're up against?" Steve asked Scott ending the other conversation.

_Hopefully they'll get back on track now._

Wanda glanced over at her brother again. He was fidgeting with something she had noticed shortly after Pietro had woken her up back at the Avengers' compound: an ace-bandage wrapped around his wrist. Wanda wanted to reach over and stop him, but she knew if she did that, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from questioning him about it and now was not the time for that, not when everyone's attention would shortly be drawn to them.

Wanda tore her eyes away from her brother and listened to Scott answer Steve's question hesitantly. "Something about psycho-assassins?"

Steve nodded then replied very seriously. "We're outside the law on this one. So if you come with us, you're a wanted man."

Scott just shrugged answered in a resigned tone, "Yea well. What else is new?"

Steve gave another nod, then said. "We should get moving." As he turned toward another vehicle, presumably ready to head out.

"Yea we should. But there's something I need to run by you first." Said Clint causing Steve to stop and turn back around. "We had uh…a complication. Well…two complications."

Suddenly, there was a whoosh and Pietro was no longer beside her, instead he was outside of the van standing by Clint. Wanda followed as quickly as she could.

"Kid, what happened to staying in the van?" Clint asked Pietro in exasperation as Wanda also emerged from the vehicle and went to stand by her brother.

"Oh. Sorry. I thought that was our cue. Your guys' introductions were taking foreveeeeer, and then Cap's like 'we should get going,' so I thought, okay better speed things along."

Steve opened and closed his mouth for a moment before finally speaking. "What the hell Clint! Why did you bring the kids?" asked Steve his voice rising in anger as he directed his gaze at Clint.

"Hey! You try getting two super-powered teenagers to listen to you when you're on a time crunch. Then we'll talk." Replied Clint defensively.

"Hey squirts." Said Sam giving Wanda and Pietro a nod, which they returned, though Wanda didn't appreciate being called a squirt, and she doubted Pietro—ever sensitive of his size, especially now—did either. The Winter-soldier remained silent, just looking at them curiously.

Scott turned and looked over at them baffled, while also pointing in their direction. "Were they with us the whole time?" he asked in mild confusion.

"Yes, Scott. They were. I'm not sure if _you_ were though." Answered the elder Wanda.

Scott made a face that seemed to say he realized she had a point, but he also shrugged unashamedly.

Steve drew one hand down across his face in frustration. "We don't have time for this. Wanda, Peter, I appreciate that you want to help, but this isn't a situation for children. Here's what's going to happen. Because there's not a better alternative right now, you two are going to wait here, while we go to the airport, and whoever is left in Germany after we inevitably run into Tony and the others, will come and get you. Then whoever that may be will let your father know where you are. He must be worried sick about you."

Wanda and Pietro had the decency to look guilty at the thought of worrying their father, "Wait. Wasn't he after you?" Peter asked pointing at Barnes. "So shouldn't he be here still? He's not really one to just back off once he sets his mind on something, and we can help! You can't leave us behind! We're not kids! We're almost old enough to have a license! I bet Wanda can drive already, and I actually can too. It's remarkably easy because everybody drives soooo slow. When I broke my dad out of prison this one time, he and his frenemies totally let me return their rental car. So—"

"You're really not helping your case kid." Clint said to Pietro.

"I'm sorry, but this is not up for discussion." Said Steve stone-faced. "I'm not dragging children into what could potentially turn into an all-out civil war."

"But—" Peter started to say, but this time his sister cut him off.

"'Tro. I don't want to fight." Wanda said quietly grabbing his arm gently with one hand.

"You—you don't?" asked Pietro turning to face his twin. His face a picture of confusion.

Wanda let his question hang in the air for a moment. She hated lying to her brother. Of course she wanted to fight. She wanted to fight for the rights of people who were different like her and Erik and her wonderful brother, but what she wanted more than to fight was for her brother to be safe. And she knew the only way he wouldn't fight was if she didn't want to. Wanda would do anything for her brother, but sometimes she forgot that he would do anything for her too.

Wanda took a deep breath and then answered Pietro, "I don't want to hurt anyone accidently, Pietro. I—I still can't control my powers all that well, and the last time they got out of control I brought us to a different universe. What if something like that happens again and we leave Erik behind, or I send someone on our side to a terrible death? I couldn't live with that." It wasn't a complete lie. Just because she was willing to kill for her brother didn't mean she wanted to kill someone who didn't deserve, or that she felt like she would ever be in complete control of her powers. Her fears were real. They just weren't her utmost fear.

Pietro looked at her with wide understanding eyes. "You're sure?"

Wanda nodded, afraid that if she spoke Pietro would be able to see right through her to the real reason she didn't want to get involved.

"It's okay, Wanda. Really it is. We'll wait here. We don't have to fight." Said Pietro, as if it didn't matter anymore and sitting on the sidelines wasn't a big deal.

Her brother was so selfless. So willing to put others needs before his own. It brought a true smile to her face and tears to her eyes, but her feeling of happiness was clouded by the added guilt she now carried for lying to him. And she had to work to make her voice sound normal. "Thanks, Pete."

Wanda couldn't help but notice that the other elder Wanda also looked relieved that they would stay behind. And it made her wonder what the young woman was holding back from them. Why didn't she tell her that her real name was the same as her own, and why did their powers seem so similar? Wanda hoped she get the chance to find out, but for now she just took in the reassuring image of her brother who was returning her smile with one of his own.

"No big deal, sis. Hangin' out with you is better than fighting baddies anyway."

"Al—alright." Said Steve sounding surprised by the twins' sudden change of heart and quick agreement to stay behind.

"Okay, so just stay here, and someone will come back for you. Use this to call Maria Hill if for some reason you don't hear from anyone in a few hours. The phone's not mine so her number isn't programmed in it, but here" Steve added handing them a cell phone, then tearing a piece of paper out of small black notepad and handing that over as well. "Her number is on that…and umm stay safe."

"Can do, buckaroo." Replied Pietro giving him the okay sign.

The other Wanda looked like she wanted to say something to them, but then everyone was moving and before they knew it, all of the adults were loaded up into the van and headed off, leaving the twins alone…Well, they weren't alone. They had each other.

* * *

After the adults departed, Wanda and Pietro plopped themselves up on the hood of the old Volkswagen beetle the Captain had left behind. They'd stretched out side by side facing out toward the view of the landscape below. They weren't actually that far from the airport. They were too far away to see anyone, but Wanda could make out the shape of airplanes parked in the terminal.

Pietro gave a sigh beside Wanda, causing her to tear her gaze away from the view before them and look over at her brother. "What's wrong?" she asked concerned.

"Nothing. This is just boring. They should've left us with books our something. Cap. didn't even tell me the passcode to his phone, so we can only make emergency calls. I can't even look to see if he has those game app thingies. Sorry! Not that hanging out with you isn't awesome!It' —"

"Pete it's okay." Said Wanda cutting him off, happily noting she was still able to decipher what he said when started rambling, at least better than anyone else could. It was a good to see that a year apart hadn't changed that. "It's nice to just be here with you too. You don't have to apologize. I grew up with you remember? I know no one could ever really understand what it's like to be you, but if anyone could come close, it's me."

"Yea, I guess you're right about that." Said Pietro giving his sister a sheepish smile and leaning back all the way against the car while raising his hands up behind him to rest his head on them.

It was at that point that Wanda could no longer ignore the bandage around Pietro's wrist, and now that they were alone, she had to ask him about it. "Pete…what happened to your arm?" Wanda coaxed gently.

Pietro stiffened and didn't answer right away. He wouldn't look at her, but eventually he sighed and said quietly just above a whisper, "I think you already know Wands."

And she did know, but she had hoped that she was dead wrong. She had hoped he would offer a different explanation. One that was entirely plausible…but he hadn't. Because there wasn't another explanation. Pietro had gotten hurt by the one person Wanda may never be able to protect him from…himself.

"Pietro why?" asked Wanda her voice teeming with emotion.

"I don't know Wanda, okay?! I just needed to! Can we not have this conversation? I already had it with the other Wanda. All I know is I'm messed up okay. I'm sorry." Replied Pietro his voice cracking with emotion, and Wanda saw a single tear trail down his face.

"Pie…" said Wanda using his old nickname from when they were little that in recent years only Mila had still been allowed to call him by, at the same time she spun around, so that she was facing Pietro, sitting cross legged so that he would have to look at her. "How many times am I going to have to tell you, you don't have anything to be sorry about. The things that you've been through are messed up, but _you_ are not messed up. And nothing that's happened to you has been your fault."

_Though some of it has been my fault…for never being able to protect you from our uncle…for leaving you and letting those monsters get you…for not being the sister you deserve._

"But you understand that hurting yourself isn't going to change anything, right?" Wanda continued. Pietro was finally looking at her; his eyes dark pools of pain.

"I know…Idoknowthat. I just…it did make it all go away…for a moment. But I won't…" Pietro paused for a second considering then seeming to come to the conclusion that he needed to be more honest with his sister. "I'll really try not to do again, Wanda. I swear I'll try. I know it won't make the memories go away forever. It'll—" and then he stopped. A new emotion crossed his face: one of hope.

The next thing Wanda knew he shot up into a sitting position so fast that only years of experience with her brother kept Wanda from tumbling back off the car in surprise, as he exclaimed in excitement, "But you could make the memories go away forever! Right Wands?! I know you could do it! You can do such crazy powerful stuff. I bet you could just wave your little energy sparkles at my head and make it all disappear! AmIrightWanda? Rightrightright?!"

Pietro was kneeling on the car's hood now. His face full of confidence, trust, and optimism, but Wanda knew she could never do what her brother asked. It was too dangerous. She didn't really understand her powers, but she'd never done anything remotely like that before. What if she took away too much? Took away what made Pietro, Pietro? And even if she was positive she could take away all of his painful memories with absolute certainty, it still wouldn't be right. Memories are an essential part of who a person is. That's why it's so depressing to watch someone with Alzheimer's deteriorate.

"Pietro…I can't do that. You know I can't. That's not how you get better." Said Wanda, begging her brother to understand.

Wanda watched her brother's face fall at her words. All of the hope was gone now and back was the sadness, if as if had never left. His chin fell to his chest and his silver bangs that had been sticking up due to his new haircut, flopped onto his forehead.

"I know…you're right…it was…it was just a thought." He replied quietly.

Wanda spun back around, so that she was facing the same way as her brother again. She put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a side hug. "We'll get through this together, Pete. Just like we always have…well like we used to."

Pietro only nodded his head as a few more tears made their way down his face, and he wiped them away hastily. Wanda tried to reassure him again. "I know it's not okay, Pietro. I know nothing feels okay right now, and I might not be able to fix that. But I'm not going anywhere this time. I promise."

At her final words, Pietro lifted one arm and returned his sister's hug. "I know."

Then Pietro unlashed himself from his sister and shot up again unexpectedly jumping off the car onto his feet. Wanda noticed he winced slightly when he landed on his injured foot.

"Holy shit! Is that a person! That's a person! There's a giant person down there!" said Pietro practically shouting as he pointed out toward the airport, momentarily distracted from his internal pain.

Wanda jumped down off the car now too, looking out where her brother was indicating, seeing what indeed appeared to be the outline giant human figure, bigger than any planes she could make out from the distance they were at.

"We have to go down there, Wanda! We have to help them! This shit is getting crazy! What if the Cap is losing?! I know you don't want to fight because you don't want to hurt anyone, but I'll make sure you don't. Like you just told me, I'm not going anywhere. I know I'm not up to tip-top shape, but I'm good enough. And this will help me too. I know it might not make a lot of sense, but I think, if I can fight stuff on the outside, then I can fight what's going on…on the inside. PleaseWanda? Pleaseohpleaseohplease!Canwehelpthem?"

Pietro was virtually begging now, and Wanda didn't know what to do. She could practically feel his pull to help, and she felt it too. But she still didn't want to endanger her brother. She knew one day she might not be able to stop him from joining in a fight, but she didn't want that day to have to be today. Nevertheless, when she looked into her brother's eyes, she felt her resolve failing.

She had already refused to try to take away Pietro's painful memories. How could she refuse him again? The answer: she couldn't.

The truth was, Pietro had her wrapped around his little finger from the moment they were born, probably even before then. Their Aunt Marya always said that Wanda would've been much too young to remember, but Wanda swears the memory is real. She remembers Pietro's first word, and it wasn't Mama or Tante Marya—it certainly wasn't Papa—no, it was Wanda. And that memory is also the first moment Wanda was indubitably aware of the fact that she would do anything for her brother, even to a fault.

With a sigh, Wanda looked into her brother's eyes that were so like her own, and said "Okay." But that was all she got out, before she felt the world flying by in a familiar blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you hanging!…There won't be regular/frequent updates anymore, but I will happily update this story when I have free time.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you say Civil War?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update?! Whaaaaat!? I know, I'm just as shocked. Sorry mates, I've been busy. Thanks for waiting patiently.

PIETRO POV

As soon as Wanda said 'okay,' Pietro took that as his cue to spring into action. Wanda's reluctance to fight had been the only thing stopping him from running off toward the airport the moment all of the adults left. So he grabbed his sister and ran as fast as his injured leg would allow toward the airport.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea. Pietro tended to forget sometimes that other people didn't react particularly well to super speed and thus liked to have a warning. Well, really they probably would just like to avoid the super speed thing altogether, but at least Wanda seemed to handle it better than most. Pietro didn't know if that was because she'd just grown accustomed to it, building up a tolerance over the years, or if it was one of their weird twin things. Either way, it was nice to know that she probably wouldn't be puking her guts out on his shoes when they got to the airport.

Also, it maybe hadn't been a great idea to run all the way to the airport on account of his current physical condition. Even though it wasn't really that far away, it probably would have been smarter to drive Herby the Love Bug wannabe because even though he was stubbornly trying to ignore it, his leg was starting to ache quite a bit, and it was only getting worse the more he used it…

But it would've taken soooo freakin' long to drive a car, and they couldn't waste any more time! There was a flippin' giant trampling around the airport for crying out loud! Like a legit giant person! It seriously looked like someone had acquired a massive mushroom from that video game with the plumber Vision had introduced him to back at the Avenger's HQ.

Pietro really hoped the giant dude was on the Cap's side. Maybe the giant was Mr. Narcolepsy. What was his name? Scott? Yeah Scott! Maybe it was Scott. Pietro didn't actually know what his power was, so by process of elimination, it seemed more likely than not that if he were on Cap's team, the giant was indeed the sleepy fellow, but no matter whose side of the fight the giant was on, if somebody found it necessary to unleash _that_ hidden talent, then Cap's team needed all the help they could get. And Wanda and Pietro could be that help.

Pietro was so glad his sister had relented. Of course he would've just hung back and stayed with his sister if he hadn't been able to convince her to go, which would have been _fine,_ but in all honesty, Pietro was a lot happier running around than talking about his feelings. Not that he didn't like talking with his sister. He'd missed her like he missed Twinkies after he ate the last one, except multiply that feeling times a billion.

Like seriously, it was a struggle to function without Wanda. When she had left home, it had made him physically sick, which had only given his aunt one more thing to worry about, so stellar job on his part. But he'd _never_ tell Wanda that. He'd never tell her it had taken a solid month after she'd left for Pietro to be confident enough in himself to be sure he wouldn't throw up when a random object or place reminded him of her.

But ughhhh, talking about feelings was not something he liked to do with anyone, especially when it hurt just thinking about feelings. Nevertheless, Pietro appreciated Wanda's words of support, and they had actually made him feel a teensy-weensy bit better, but it was still embarrassing to have to admit to his sister how messed up he was, unlike Wanda who could endure anything unfazed.

Sure Pietro remembered times when Wanda was stressed out and under serious pressure, but even then it still seemed as though she had it together. Pietro knew that didn't make sense, but that's just how he saw her. His sister was this invincible person…just like their father. Whereas, Pietro had a track record that showed just how weak he was. Maybe that's why Wanda and Erik didn't 'connect' as much as Pietro had with their father. They were too similar. It was like putting two Betta fish in the same bowl and expecting them to get along. Hell, if everything that had happened to Pietro had happened to Wanda or Erik, they would've just been like FU world! You don't get to shit on my life and get away with it!

Not that Wanda hadn't had her own fair share of difficulties, and Pietro would never wish any of his own troubles on her, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was a really good thing Wanda hadn't been the one to get kidnapped and tortured. Considering Wanda tore a hole in the universe when it happened to him, his sister probably would've destroyed at least one world in retaliation if all that shit had happened to her, because obviously Wanda's life was a lot more valuable than his own, at least in Pietro's opinion.

_Focus Pete._

Pietro's mind had a tendency to wander off, and being that he was about to enter a battle, he really had to keep the wandering to a minimum.

_Stupid ADHD._

So yea, Pietro probably should've warned his sister that he was going to rush them off to the airport, but hello! A giant person is a pretty good excuse for him to get distracted! Speaking of which…Pietro skidded to a stop a short distance away from the impossibly large human being and carefully disengaged his hold on Wanda. His injured leg twinged with pain as his body came to rest, but he chose to ignore it as best he could because there were more important things happening.

Up close he could tell the giant dude was indeed Scott, and through his giant mask, the man seemed just as impressed as Pietro was by the fact that he was currently humongous.

It was nice change to see Scott awake too, though Tony and his band of hooligans might have preferred a sleeping giant to an awake one. But knowing that Scott's loyalty was to Steve was a pretty big relief because Pietro wasn't quite sure how he would've taken down a giant. He was pretty sure it wouldn't have been as easy as the story of David and Goliath would lead one to believe…and he didn't have a slingshot anyway. He guessed he could've tried to run up to his face and kicked him in the eyeball, but he was wearing a mask, so that probably wouldn't have worked. Anyway that was a problem for future Pietro, _if_ he ever encountered a hostile giant that is.

But unfortunately, it looked like Tony Stark and his recruits had figured out a way to take down the monstrous man. Some skinny dude—not as skinny as Pietro himself, but Pietro wasn't wearing a skintight red and blue spandex suit with a spider logo—had wrapped some sort of stringy rope material around Scott's legs and it was starting to put the giant man off balance.

_Is that stuff coming out of him? Cool!…but disgusting._

Tony in his Iron Man suit and another guy in a clunky metal suit—his dad would have really been having a field day if he were here with all these metal guys running around—took advantage of Scott's imbalance and flew at the giant man's face, knocking him squarely under the chin, which sent him tumbling backward toward the ground. Pietro cringed.

_That's gotta hurt. I guess it really is true that the bigger they are the harder they fall._

Pietro shifted his gaze back toward the spry dude who was still swinging around Scott's falling frame and watched in slow motion as he gave a thumb's up and started to shout something that sounded like 'Yes that was awesome!' before he was smacked squarely (and accidently) by one of Scott's hands, which sent the guy careening quickly—well what would be quickly to people that weren't Pietro—toward a large pile of crates on the ground.

Pietro hesitated. The thing about processing everything so quickly meant he had a lot more time to think—sometimes too much time—than normal people. Normal people wouldn't have had to consider whether they should help a guy, who was obviously not on Steve's side of the fight, or let him crash into the crate and give Steve—who despite being the focus of all this hoopla, Pietro couldn't seem to locate anywhere in the immediate vicinity—and the 'good guys' an advantage because normal people wouldn't be able to react fast enough to help…but Pietro could.

In the end, it really wasn't much of a choice. Pietro was tired of being an observer, and a body slam into multiple sharp-edged solid objects was undoubtedly going to hurt. And Pietro didn't like it when people got hurt. Even if spandex man was on Tony's side, that didn't mean he was a bad guy (though Pietro questioned the dude's fashion choices). Despite basically kidnapping Pietro and his family, from the little interaction he'd had with Tony, the guy actually seemed like an okay dude. Not that Pietro entirely trusted his own ability to read people. After all, he had broken a crazed terrorist out of prison because a nerd, lumberjack, and a druggie had asked him to...But then again, the terrorist—after some questionable decisions—actually turned out to be a pretty alright guy…and his dad, so maybe he was better at reading people than he thought. So Pietro hoped the primary colored acrobat wasn't that bad of a guy….not like Stryker. And Vision was on Tony's side too and Pietro thought he was a pretty cool dude.

Making his decision, Pietro rushed forward, ignoring the increasing bout of pain that shot through his leg with each step and kept him from going full speed, Pietro maneuvered himself in front of the crates and as the guy drew close enough, Pietro grabbed him. Placing his hands on the human torpedo's shoulders, Pietro matched the guy's speed as best he could, and carefully slowed down his momentum while steering him away from the crate until the man—boy? now that Pietro was next to the dude, he didn't seem big enough to be an adult—was safely planted with both feet on the ground. It was really a good thing the guy wasn't that big—well he was bigger than Pietro, but who wasn't really?—otherwise his human baseball catch would've been a tad more difficult.

Once the guy registered that he was safely on his feet and not splat on the pavement or impaled by a piece broken wood, he immediately gave a twitchy half jump in surprise and moved his arms about like he thought he should be fighting someone but wasn't really sure who.

"Huh?! What!? What just happened? Ughhh, oh I feel sick. I think I'm gonna hurl." Said the spandex clad individual crossing his arms over his stomach and bending forward.

At that point Pietro decided to make his presence known because the guy was being amusing, and he sounded like kid—teenager, Pietro corrected himself (all of the adults referring to Wanda and himself as kids had gotten into his head)—and if Tony had enlisted a teen on his team there really wasn't any reason Steve couldn't have let Wanda and him fight on his side. Fair was fair. And if the boy had somehow managed to get Tony's _permission_ to fight, then Pietro was kinda interested in hearing how the guy had swung it. Pun intended.

Pietro tapped the spandex guy rapidly on the shoulder, causing him to spin around in shock.

"Me. That's what happened. You were going to go splat. Like a bug, which is funny because going off of your attire, apparently that's your logo. Are you mutant? Or, I guess I mean inhuman? Worlds are confusing and words are hard. Or are you just part spider? You can't like sprout 6 extra arms can you? That'd be kinda weird…and gross, but whatever. Your webby powers are cool. I mean not as cool as my powers or me, because I saved you. I mentioned that, right? Soanywayyoushouldstop fightingoratleastjoinTeamUSAImeanTeamCaptainAmericabecauseyou'refightingforthewrongsiderightnow, ,you'rewelcome." Said Pietro his words speeding up as he went along.

The eyes of the spider dude's mask widened, displaying his confusion.

_Rad. Those are some fancy eye thingamajigs. That reminds me, I really wish I had my goggles. I need to get myself some new ones…_

"What? Who are yo—" spider-kid started to say but another voice cut him off.

"Peter!" yelled Wanda who had managed to recover from travel via super speed, or at least she had gotten her bearings enough while Pietro was playing hero to come charging at him.

"Yea?" both boys answered out of habit turning to look in the girl's direction, before giving each other a weird look—well as weird a look as one can convey through a mask—both confused as to why the other had responded. Then spider guy clamped one hand over where his mouth was obviously located under his mask, as if he realized he shouldn't have let slip a response.

"She means me spiderling." said Pietro turning to his sister again who was still a ways off and giving her a thumbs up.

"Who _is_ that?" asked the spider guy, the eyes of his mask going wide once more.

"Duuuude _,_ That's my _sister_. Stop ogling her. You're lucky you're our age or I'd have to throw you into those crates after all for being a pervert." Replied Pietro giving the spider guy a pointed look.

"What? I'm not—I'm way older than you. You shouldn't even be here young man! You should be in school. And you still haven't told me who you are! Should I be fighting you? Where's Mr. Stark?" Said the spider guy noticeably trying to makes his voice deeper and more manly as if to embody a responsible adult while looking around, presumably for Tony Stark in hopes of getting some instructions.

"Pffft. Liar. I could just take your mask off to prove you're a liar, but I grew up in America—mostly—so I respect the right to privacy, sooooo I'm not gonna _do_ that. But I _could_ if I wanted to _._ But seriously stop making your eyes do that crazy obvious zoom thing at my sister, or I'll make an exception to my morals. Bro's before ho's does not apply here man, because number 1, my sister is not a ho, and number 2, I don't even know you so—"

"Pietro!" Wanda said this time. She had reached the boys unnoticed as they were so engrossed in their own conversation.

Hardly sparing a glance at the masked spandex clad boy as she physically pushed him aside, Wanda stood firmly in front of her brother. Her eyes were blazing, which made Pietro just a _teensy_ bit afraid she might be mad at him for running her all the way to the airport without really talking about it first. But then Wanda's gaze softened.

"Are you okay? How's your leg?" Wanda asked her brother concernedly looking him over.

"Perfectly Peachy!" replied Pietro brightly, happily surprised she wasn't yelling at him. "It's practically back to normal. Really—"

"Don't lie to me Pete!" said Wanda cutting him off and grabbing his jacket by the collar with both hands, so that they were face to face causing the other boy—who Pietro guessed coincidentally enough must share his name, more or less—to back away a step or two. Pietro didn't blame him. He knew his sister wasn't going to hurt him, but Wanda was still terrifying.

_Guess she is mad. Whoops._

Pietro braced himself for the inevitable scolding about acting rashly and mentally prepared himself to pull out his puppy dog eyes, which usually worked nicely as his own personal 'get out of jail free card.' But what she actually said, he was in no way prepared for.

"When I said okay, I didn't mean for you to run us all the way here, you jerk! How am I supposed to protect you when you do things like that!?" demanded Wanda fervently.

"Wh—what?" Pietro's face fell. Even now that they were practically grown up—and the same age he might add—his sister still thought he couldn't take care of himself. Of course _he_ thought he was weak, but Pietro had honestly thought his sister was more confident in him than he was in himself….but no, it seemed everyone would forever feel like they had to protect him, lest something terrible befall him.

Pietro supposed it wasn't an unreasonable assumption considering he had allowed himself to get kidnapped _and_ he let his aunt get murdered, but sometimes he just didn't see why anyone, even his own family who by evidence of his aunt's death he had already failed, cared that much. They shouldn't feel guilty if something happened to him. He wasn't worth the guilt. Wanda should know that by now.

Wanda's eyes grew wide at the realization of what she had said, and she tried to recover from her slip of the tongue, "That's not—I just meant—"

But before Wanda could make any sort of explanation, Iron Man, aka Tony Stark, landed right in front of the three teens. "Is there a Mickey Mouse Club meeting happening here that I was unaware of, because I know I brought one kid, but now there appears to be three." Said Tony exaggeratedly pointing at each one of the teens as if to count them.

"I mean did Steve really drag you here to help him fight, Maximoffs? I wouldn't think he'd stoop to my level and bring in kids to fight his battles being that he is 'Captain Morals' and all. You know what? It doesn't matter why you're here. I don't have the time or the energy to deal with your irritable overprotective metal wielding father." Finished Stark turning to the masked vigilante while Pietro and Wanda both just gave him looks that seemed to say 'are you serious?'

"Peter, web 'em." Said Stark with finality.

Pietro looked over at the masked boy—Peter—to see if he was going to follow Stark's order. It wasn't hard to figure out what web 'em meant, and Pietro had no intention of letting him or Wanda be 'webbed.' If spider boy made a move to follow Tony's command, Pietro was going to stop him. No way he was dealing with getting that sticky stuff off of him, especially if it was coming out of the guy, like seriously? Just no. Gross.

But Pietro didn't get to see if the other boy would have listened to Iron man because while he was waiting around to see if any action was necessary on his part, familiar red energy suddenly—well suddenly from everyone else's perspective—engulfed the spiderling.

Pietro turned to look at his sister and saw that her hands were thrust outward and glowing red, along with her eyes, and Pietro knew that was his cue to let his sister handle the situation because he wasn't about to get in her way mess everything up. With his luck, if he tried to intervene, he'd just end up injuring himself on her sparky energy and then Pietro would confirm her belief that he needed to be protected….also, Wanda was really scary when she used her powers, so that in and of itself was a good enough reason to just let her do her thing uninterrupted.

Wanda not only had the other Peter in her clutches, but she had managed to imprison Iron Man as well. With her hands out and her fingers spread out, it almost looked like she doing some intense spirit fingers…you know if spirit fingers were encompassed with actual spirit-esq energy and looked spine-chillingly terrifying.

Wanda pushed her hands downward and the red energy glowed brighter as Stark and Spiderboy were forced to their knees and rendered immobile. Pietro smirked. He might not be exactly pleased with his sister's lack of faith in him at the moment, but he could still appreciate the badassery of her skills.

"Whooooa. Wicked Wanda. In that, that was wicked, not that you are…well I guess you are but in like what's probably the fourth definition of Wicked in the dictionary. Wicked as in awesome. It's one of those contronyms, you know?" Said Pietro rambling on in attempt to appear totally fine, and most definitely not insecure because of his sister's earlier words.

Stark looked a little pale with exhaustion—or perhaps even fear—but he remained remarkably calm despite being in the grasp of Wanda's far-out powers. Next to Stark, Peter didn't seem to be handling the situation quite as well, mumbling 'get it off get it off', and wiggling around as much as he could—which wasn't much—as if he could shake off the swirling energy.

_Not going to work dude. Trust me. I know._

He may or may not have found that out the hard way when he stole the TV remote from his sister, back before she took off for wherever it is she went.

"Kid," said Stark addressing Wanda. His expression serious, making his face look quite different from its usual carefree façade. "Try to be calm. Let's just—"

"You're not going to detain us." Said Wanda her voice strong and confident and remarkably like their father's as her eyes blazed red. "and we're not going anywhere. The Captain is fighting for people like us and you…your just…what are you even fighting for?"

Pietro didn't wait to hear Stark's answer. Whatever it was going to be, it didn't really matter. It probably wasn't going to be good enough for Wanda, and at any rate, they had chosen their side. With the world practically frozen, Pietro looked around. He didn't see the Cap, Falcon, or _The Six Million Dollar Man_ anywhere, at least not in their immediate vicinity. He guessed it was a pretty big airport and maybe they were off dealing with the other members of Stark's team, whoever they might be. Pietro was able to easily spot Antman though, who was still down for the count, and the other Wanda was on the ground a ways off, entangled in Vision's arms whilst the two made googly eyes at each other.

_Ughh Barf. Isn't Vision on the Tony's side? Are they gonna make out? Bleh._

Pietro shuddered in superspeed. He did _not_ need to see a make out session, especially when one of the said makerouters reminded him a lot of his sister, and even though Vision was like technically a toddler, he seemed a lot older than Wanda, so that was kinda messed up no matter how you looked at it.

Gathering his focus again, Pietro analyzed his surroundings some more. Maybe Cap and the Winter Soldier had already escaped, or perhaps they were battling it out with someone inside one of the buildings, like maybe the one with the giant air traffic control tower knocked down in front of its entrance?

_Bingo._

With renewed determination, Pietro turned back to his sister and saw the pure control in her face. She had a handle on this. He could use his talents elsewhere.

"Sooooooo, lookslikeyougotthis?" said Pietro quickly to his sister, but slow enough to be understood, preventing Stark from answering her question, if he was ever going to. The guy was taking a while to come up with a response, in Pietro's opinion.

"Yes—wait what?" said Wanda, not releasing her hold on her two prisoners but turning her head toward her brother.

"IwasjustsayingitlookslikeyougotthiswholesituationundercontrolsoI'mgonnamakesureCapisn' . Byeeeee." Said Pietro as he took off toward the blocked airplane hangar. He wasn't about to wait for his sister's response, because he knew what it would be.

_Pietro, no. Well, I say Pietro yes._

He felt kinda bad about taking off on her, but he was going to prove he didn't need protecting. He knew now that even if Wanda was actually scared of killing people with her powers, that wasn't what scared her most. It was not being able to protect him that scared her, so he was just going to remove that fear from her vicinity. Because out of sight out of mind, right? Well at least that's what Pietro was going with so he wouldn't feel guilty about abandoning his sister or dwell too much on the fact that she would never think he was grown up enough to take care of himself.

So instead of thinking of any of that he was just going to pretend he was playing one of his favorite games from childhood that drove his aunt nuts, but Wanda and he loved. You know, the one where you jump from one piece of furniture to another because floor is lava? Yep. That one.

He was going to pretend the big knocked over air traffic control tower was the furniture and the rest of the ground was lava because if he focused on that then it was almost like he was back at home….back before Bryan…back before government experimentation…back before fathers and sisters thought he was weak.

Pietro sped past Scott, who was sprawled out on the ground, thankfully back to normal human size, then he ran past Vision and Wanda who were still gazing into each other's eyes;

_Seriously, those two need to get a room._

Above him Pietro noticed that Falcon and some other guy in a metal suit had appeared and were duking it out. It was weird how they just sort of hung in the air since Pietro was going so fast. They looked clunky and like they should drop to the ground, but obviously they weren't really floating. Super speed made the world look really weird sometimes.

Finally—well really it wasn't actually that long, but again, super speed—Pietro reached the wreckage that had once been a watch tower and planted his foot on the rubble before pushing off of it and bringing his other leg up to do the same. He hopped like this up and over the tower, efficiently moving from one piece of debris to the next, enjoying the fleeting joy it brought to just pretend to be a kid once more, but the pain in his left leg reminded him that that reality was gone.

Reaching the top (the side?) of the tower, Pietro took a second—or what was equivalent to a second in his perspective—to brush off his jacket. He frowned, it had gotten a little dirty amidst all of his running around. He wondered how you washed leather. He was always really meticulous about making sure he didn't get it dirty, so he didn't really know what to do about it. He didn't think you could just throw it in a washing machine. No, that didn't seem right. He'd have to ask aunt Marya—oh right.

_I wonder if I'll ever get used to the fact that she's really gone._

Now frowning for a very different reason, Pietro took his eyes off his jacket and looked around, and his eyes went wide. The intimidating red haired ninja lady Avenger was below him but what was the bigger surprise was that some guy in an all-black suit was in mid jump headed straight toward a large fighter jet that was hovering in the hanger. Inside the cockpit of the jet was none other than Captain Rogers, dolled up in some legit looking patriotic uniform.

The good news was that it looked like Captain Rogers and probably the metal arm dude—he had to be in the jet too, right? He and Cap were like best buds—were pretty close to getting away, except for the fact that a pouncing human jaguar was almost certainly going to latch himself to the aircraft. But what could the guy really do if he got a hold of it? It's not like one man could possibly pull something of that size to the ground, especially without any leverage besides his own momentum.

On second thought, maybe the guy could do just that. Maybe he had a superpower too and his power was some weird mix of superhuman strength, cat-like agility, and defying laws of physics.

Pietro stood in contemplation as time flowed by, the jet drew closer, and whiskers latched onto the wheel of the jet. It didn't look like the guy was going to be able to pull it back to earth, but maybe he was just biding his time or he had to get a good grip first. And if that wasn't possible, maybe was just going to pull himself up onto the aircraft, which would introduce a whole new set of problems.

Pietro really wished Cap would raise the wheel. Maybe the landing gear was jammed, or maybe he was in the process of raising it, but it like everything else in the world was just too slow. Either way, Pietro couldn't leave the man to his own devices. If he didn't do something the guy might very well somehow manage to crawl around onto the jet with his claws and punch something important that made the jet go vroom vroom.

Or the guy could get stuck hanging onto a wheel of a speeding jet for who knows how long before he grew tired and fell off because of g-force, gravity, or other physics shit that would cause him to plummet to his death. Then the man's death would be on Pietro because he didn't do something to stop him, and Pietro didn't want that. Even if he was fighting against Cap, he couldn't just let him die.

So when the jet reached Pietro and the cat man came to be hanging right in front of the boy, he planted his feet firmly reached up and wrapped his skinny arms around the man. Usually, Pietro's speed let him expend a serious amount of force despite his small stature, but Pietro forgot to take into account that he couldn't get a running start on top of an unstable pile of debris, so he wasn't moving when he grabbed onto the much larger male. Thus, dislodging him from the jet wasn't quite as easy as Pietro had hoped.

_Uh oh._

Pietro felt himself being wrenched backward by the force of the jet, but he refused to let go of the human feline, even as his feet slid backward and then lost contact with the toppled tower.

_OhShitOhShitOhShitShitShit_

The jet wasn't stopping and the guy wasn't letting go of the wheel.

_LetGoLetGoLetGo._

If the guy didn't let go of the wheel soon they were both gonna die and because of his ability, Pietro was going to have a lot of time to contemplate death and/or watch his life replay before his eyes as they spiraled toward the ground.

"LET GO DUDE!" Pietro shouted to the black suited individual who he had concluded at this point was obviously deranged. Pietro shifted his arms trying wiggle upward to get a better grip on the guy, but then the boy's hand touched something circular on the man's chest and the next thing Pietro knew, there was nothing but pain, and images of lab coats and needles and tests and the man named Stryker.

Electricity coursed through Pietro's body and evidently the cat man's too for he had finally let go of the jet and now they were falling. But that was fine. Because when he hit the ground the pain would stop. The images would be gone, and maybe he'd see aunt Marya again…maybe he'd even see his mom again…he just hoped he wasn't about to see Bryan again. Pietro managed to focus enough to close his eyes, hoping that would make the journey from the jet to the concrete below just a little quicker…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I think there's a very high possibility that I enjoy cliffhangers. Sorry about that.
> 
> I hope you liked it anyway! Questions? Comments? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Couple of other things:
> 
> I realize tasers probably don't have an aftershock effect triggered by touch, but it was in Natasha's possession, so who knows what sorta weaponry she has.
> 
> Also, things don't exactly match up with the movie in this chapter because 1) Pietro and Wanda are there, 2) just…plot reasons and 3) I can't completely remember the timeline of events from the movie in this scene so…
> 
> Probably going to be another long stretch between updates. Just warning ya. Stay awesome folks, and happy first day of autumn!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has to be the most random update ever, but I desperately need an escape from reality right now, so here ya go. Sorry for the lack of updates. My life has been hectic lately, and I apologize for any errors. I'm a little distracted at the moment.

* * *

X-MEN WANDA POV

Wanda heard him before she saw him. The blood-curdling scream cut through the air like a knife, and flew straight into her heart.

_Pietro!_

Wanda turned toward the sound of her brother's scream that had nearly made her heart stop. She unconsciously released the hold she had on her two captives. They were now forgotten by Wanda, as was the rest of humanity, save one individual.

Whirling around, Wanda was greeted by the sight of her brother and another figure slightly above him and closer to her, plummeting through the air toward the unforgiving concrete below.

She didn't have time to comprehend why or how her brother had come to be free falling toward the earth. Wanda merely reacted based on nothing more than the protective instinct she had felt toward her brother since birth.

Wanda thrust both her arms out toward her brother's falling body. If she had had time to think about what was happening, Wanda would have been terrified of using her powers on Pietro, but without the luxury of time, there was only one thought in her head: save Pietro.

There had always been at least a small seed of terror inside Wanda whenever she used her powers, but doing whatever she could to keep her brother safe, that had always been as natural as breathing.

Unfortunately, although Wanda reacted almost instantaneously, there was still a fair amount of distance separating the twins, and though she had certainly refined her abilities during her time with the Avengers, using her powers across a distance greater than the length of a room had not been something she had really worked on…which now seemed to be a fatal, fatal error that might haunt her forever.

But Wanda's efforts were not completely in vain. Training with the elder Wanda, coupled with her unparalleled desperation to prevent something that would surely end her world, pushed her powers farther than she knew they could go.

The wave of swirling red psionic energy that shot from Wanda's outstretched hands, crossed the airport over the scattered remains of destroyed airplanes and other debris before connecting with Pietro mid-fall.

The result was not as perfect as she would have hoped…if she had had time to hope.

The energy smacked into Pietro, enveloping him, but Wanda was too far away to maintain control, stop her brother's decent, and lower him gently to the ground. Instead, the red chaotic force merely changed Pietro's trajectory and prevented him from descending in a completely vertical freefall. The cloud of energy Wanda sent out pushed the boy sideways and slowed his descent, but Wanda didn't know if it would be enough. The unyielding force of gravity still pulled Pietro toward the ground…just in a slightly more arch-like manner.

The boy still hit the concrete…and when he did, his screams abruptly ended, but the silence was short-lived, as Pietro's screams were immediately replaced by his sister's.

"PIETRO!" Wanda cried out, sprinting across the terminal toward where her brother lay, oblivious to the other falling figure's nimble landing on the ground next to the boy's still form. A jet soared over Wanda as she ran, and three men took off into the air after it. The masked man in all black who had landed gracefully next to her brother froze for a moment as he looked down at the boy. Though it was impossible to tell because of his mask, the man, known to his people as the Black Panther, seemed to be suffering through some great internal battle with his conscience. He took one final look at the young silver haired speedster and the girl rushing toward him, before he took off. The image of the boy's motionless form was difficult to push from his mind, but in the end, the man's memory of his father's bloodied and lifeless body was what remained in his mind and allowed him to leave his guilty conscience on the tarmac with the boy as he took off once again in pursuit of revenge. Not that Wanda noticed any of this, she had eyes for only her brother.

Reaching Pietro, Wanda quickly knelt down beside his still form. His head was turned away from her, causing her to hesitate for just a moment, afraid her brother's eyes would be open and unseeing in a cold gaze of death. Putting aside her fears, Wanda gently turned his head toward her. Thankfully, that particular fear turned out to be unfounded, but that didn't calm Wanda's racing heart. Pietro's eyes weren't staring blankly into space, but they were shut, meaning he was at the very least unconscious.

"Pietro! Pietro! Please be alright! Wake up! Please…" said Wanda begging her brother to respond, while holding his head carefully between her hands.

Tears streamed down her face as she hugged her brother's body more closely to herself, running one hand through her brother's terribly mussed up hair as her pleas became more desperate and less articulate. "You—you have to wake up Pietro…P—Please wake up. I only just got you back….I can't live without you again…please…"

Suddenly, the elder Wanda appeared across from her on the other side of Pietro. Wanda hadn't even heard her run over, too engrossed in her own despair.

Wanda raised her eyes to meet the older girl's that seemed to reflect just as much fear as she felt.

"He—he won't wake up…I tried—I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't c—catch him—" Wanda choked out with a sob. "I don't know what to do!"

The Avenger reached out and gently tried to remove the younger girl's hands from Pietro, but that only made Wanda pull her brother's seemingly lifeless body more tightly to herself.

"Wanda. Tell me what you feel." The older girl said curtly and anxiously in her heavy Sovokian accent.

"Wh—why—I don't—why does that matter?! I have to do something! My brother—" Wanda could barely speak. Why was her mentor asking her how she felt! Obviously she felt like her world was falling apart because her brother could very well be dead, and she couldn't do anything about it!

_Oh God. No. Please don't leave me, Pietro. Please. You can't be gone. You can't. I'm so sorry I ever left you. Please please don't leave me!_

"It matters," said the older girl, "because if you still feel whole, and you still feel your heart in your chest, even if you can only feel the pain there, then your brother is not dead! Do you understand me?! He's not dead! Because if he was, you wouldn't feel alive at all! And he needs you to be strong for him, and to let him go so I can look at him and try to help. This is not your fault Wanda. I should have been watching him, but you need to let him go so I can check his vitals and do everything possible to help him."

"O—oka—" Wanda started to say as she began to lower Pietro's head off of her lap, when a small whimper rang out between the girls, and Wanda's eyes shot down toward her brother just in time to see the boy's eyes slowly open.

"Pietro!" Wanda said smiling through her tears.

The boy didn't really answer, instead he gave another groan of pain. Wanda was just about to question her brother as to where he was hurting and what she could do, when a shadow passed over Pietro's face, blocking out the sun. Wanda lifted her head upward to see the form of her father adorned in his cape and helmet, his usually carefully composed face the picture of worry.

* * *

_A little while earlier..._

ERIK POV

At long last, Agent May stated they were closing in on their destination. Finally, he was close to the two people who had once more given him a purpose in life. He was drawing nearer to the two people that were the last thing on his mind when he went to sleep at night and the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the morning. Though the pain and anger of his past were still there, being a father once more had made him realize that his children would forever motivate him in a way revenge and hatred never could.

Erik was just starting to question whether Agent May had been being truthful about their proximity to the airport, when they came out of a cloud and there it was, mere miles ahead of them on the earth below.

Erik let out an inaudibly breath of air that he didn't realize he'd been holding. God help him, if he ever let his children out of his sight again after all of this.

"What are you doing?" Erik asked suddenly, his powers alerting him that the aircraft was slowing down, and beginning to descend. Though it was in sight, they weren't nearly close enough to the airport to consider landing. Nowhere near close enough to see that Wanda and Pietro were alive and well.

"Repaying my debt to Agent Hill as I agreed to." Answered Agent May unemotionally, as the jet completely stopped its forward progress, and began to lower toward the ground.

"And you agreed to get me to the airport, did you not? We're still a good ways out." Replied Erik in growing frustration but trying to remain calm.

"I am aware of that Mr. Lensherr." answered May.

"Then what is the issue? Take me the rest of the way!" Erik replied trying and failing to keep his anger in check as he plastered May with a cold stare.

"The issue is that I'm not an Uber. I work in the shadows, and I don't intend to go announcing my participation in something in which I _should_ not and _would_ not be involved had I not owed Agent Hill a favor. We can't all go around wearing capes, Mr. Lensherr. Some of us have to work behind the scenes in order to keep the world turning, and it's not hard to guess, based on the skills that you possess and your attire, that whoever you are meeting at that airport and whatever goes down is likely to be reported to people I'd rather not encounter." Said May unmoved by Erik's obvious disdain and intense glare that would have lesser men cowering in their boots.

"This is ridiculous. Trust me, whoever we run into, I will have their full attention." Said Erik. "I cannot waste valuable time walking from here!"

"Be that as it may, it's an unnecessary risk. My jet. My choice." Answered May much more calmly than Erik.

"Fine, then." Said Erik, standing up as the jet touched down, his cape whipping around behind him.

May hit the button to open the back of the plane, but Erik forced the metal door down more quickly, too impatient and annoyed to wait. He accepted that he had no other option but to walk the rest of the way to the airport, but that didn't mean he was happy about it. He considered forcing the jet toward the airport, but that would only waste his energy and it wouldn't really be quick enough to justify commandeering the jet. He also reminded himself that it would be a bad idea to anger Agent Hill's allies because Erik had no idea how long he would be in this universe and he couldn't afford to make enemies at every turn, since he already seemed to make them without even really trying; nor could he justify killing May. Up to this point, she had been helpful and killing her wouldn't accomplish anything…though it might bring Erik momentary satisfaction.

Erik exited the plane without any other departing words by either party. He didn't look back as he felt the jet rise behind him. He just started off at a steady pace toward the airport steeled with renewed determination.

Erik marched quickly, his boots causing the coarse grass to crumple beneath him. As he crossed the open field, he couldn't help but feel something was wrong. He hoped it was nothing, but it was frightenly similar to the feeling of walking into the Maximoff household and finding Pietro gone or coming home to find his home ablaze with his baby girl inside.

Erik quickened his pace; as he did so, he felt the distant presence of metal soar threw the air off to his left.

Erik looked over, expecting to see May's jet returning, but instead he saw a different jet speeding away from the airport with three flying figures that could only be members of the Avengers following it. It immediately occurred to Erik that there was at least some possibility that his children could be inside. If that was true, he would once again be separated from his only family.

Erik thrust out his arms, attempting to hold the jet back, but he couldn't do it. It was too far away. He could just barely feel the tingle of metal running through his body.

Erik dropped his hands and took off running toward the jet and its followers with a desperation that only a parent could feel. His cape billowed behind him as Erik's long legs nearly flew across the field.

Then suddenly, a bright gold stream of light hit one of the flying figures causing him to tumble out of control toward the ground below, while the other two figures dove toward the falling man.

Erik paused momentarily in indecision. The jet—and quite possibly his children—was growing farther and farther away. Erik made one more frantic attempt to latch onto it, but his attempt was futile.

It took all of Erik's strength to push the fierce loss of having potentially let his children slip through his fingers again, but he knew if they were here, they wouldn't even hesitate to help the man falling out of the sky, so Erik tried to be the man that they believed he could be, and he started running forward again with one arm outstretched.

It was clear the other two Avengers weren't going to catch their falling companion, so that meant Erik was his only hope. But as fast as he was running in an attempt to get close enough to control the man's metal suit, he knew he wasn't going to be fast enough…at least not completely.

As he ran, Erik pushed his powers as far as they would go. He felt himself make contact with the man's suit, and Erik hastily tried to stop his fall, but he couldn't do it. He wasn't close enough to have complete control. The best he could do was slow his descent, but the man still crashed into the ground at far too great a speed.

When the man made contact with the ground, Erik stopped running forward. There was nothing more he could do anymore. The man was either dead or critically injured, and Erik would be no help to him. So, unnoticed by the Avengers,—who Erik was now able to identify as Stark and Wilson—Erik changed his direction and set off toward the airport once more. Hoping beyond all hope that his children were still there.

* * *

As Erik reached the edge of the airport, he slowed his pace from a jog to a hesitant walk. The place was a mess. It looked as if a tornado had raged through it.

Erik's heart beat faster. Maybe it was better if his children were on the jet he had been unable to stop. Better that than them lying crushed somewhere beneath the surrounding wreckage.

As Erik walked around a plane that was still partially intact, his eyes came to rest on something that surely should have stopped his heart for all of the fear it caused to rise up inside him.

His daughter and the Wanda of this world were kneeling down on the ground with a body between them, and though his daughter's back blocked most of his view, there was no mistaking who the skinny legs and silver clad feet that stuck out between the girls belonged to.

_Pietro._

Once again Erik found himself running. He crossed the tarmac faster than he would've thought possible, but neither girls' focus left Pietro for a second. It didn't seem that they had even heard him as there was nothing more important to them than the boy between them.

When he came to stand behind his daughter, the tightness in his chest lifted, but only slightly, at the sound of pained groan emanating from the boy.

Erik saw his son's eyelids struggling to open as his shadow cast over Pietro's face, and his daughter finally noticed his presence. She looked up at him, fresh tears along with despair and worry were all blatantly present on her face, and Erik wondered if his own fear was just as clear.

"What. Happened." asked Erik trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, while failing to keep the metal in the surrounding area from shaking along with his growing fear, as he knelt down beside his daughter, and ran a hand through Pietro's hair.

"Ow." Pietro let out quietly. It looked like it took a great deal of effort, but the boy's eyes finally came fully open, though his gaze seemed out of focus, but the boy tried to sit up nonetheless.

Erik felt the pressure in his chest ease off a little more, relieved that his son was capable of making an effort to sit up, but Erik still placed a firm but gentle hand on Pietro's chest to prevent him from doing so.

"Easy Pietro. Lay back. Don't try to sit up." Said Erik.

"What happened?!" Erik asked again more forcefully this time, tearing his gaze away from his son momentarily to look at his daughter. He wasn't angry at his daughter, and he didn't want her to think that he was, but that didn't mean he wasn't angry just in general.

"He—I—" Wanda couldn't seem to find the words to speak. Erik didn't blame her, when someone you loved was hurt, it was hard to think straight, but Erik knew he couldn't afford to lose focus when Pietro was injured.

"He tried to stop a man who was attempting to board Steve and Bucky's jet, and—and he got him off of it, but he fell from—from…too high." Said the other Wanda her voice heavy with regret. "I'm sorry…I wasn't paying attention. I didn't—I didn't see. Your daughter, she slowed his fall. He'd be dead if she hadn't."

Erik felt his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that his daughter had probably saved Pietro's life, but that didn't lessen his worry for the boy as he tried to comprehend what he had just been told.

"Da-Dad? Wanda? Wh't's go'n on?"

Pietro's voice sounded small, wounded, and confused and it tugged at the edges of Erik's hurting heart.

"Shhh, Pietro. It's alright. You're going to be fine. We're going to get you help. Don't worry." Erik said as his son's dark eyes finally focused on Erik's own. Erik ran his hand soothingly through the boy's hair once more.

"Kkkay." Said Pietro quietly, closing his eyes again.

"No, Pietro." Said Erik running his thumb over the boy's forehead to coax his eyes back open. "You need to stay awake, Kleinen Geparden1. You probably have a concussion." At least, Erik hoped that was all that was wrong with his son. There was a cut above one of the boy's eyes, though it wasn't bleeding too badly. A rock or something had probably hit him when he made contact with the ground. But as far as other injuries went, Pietro was starting to shift his legs and arms around a little restlessly or more likely in pain, but Erik took that as a good sign that he hadn't suffered any major damage. Though Erik knew enough about anatomy to realize that internal injuries weren't always readily apparent, so he knew that he had to get Pietro checked out as quickly as possible.

"He needs a doctor. Where can we take him?" Erik asked turning his gaze on the elder Wanda.

"I—I don't know. I'm sure when the Tony's reinforcements get here, they'll help him. They'll arrest the rest of us, sure. But he's just a child." Replied the older girl, looking back down at Pietro in concern.

"She is right." Said Vision gliding gracefully toward the huddled group, his unexpected presence catching all three of the kneeling individuals off guard.

"I deeply apologize for the injuries your son has sustained, Mr. Lensherr, but Wanda is correct that Steve's companions must be held liable for their actions under the law. Yet, regardless of your son's misguided actions in attempting to assist Captain Rogers, I assure you he will receive the finest medical care available. I feel great guilt for young Peter's suffering...among other things." Said Vision turning for a moment to look off into the horizon toward the direction of where the man Erik had tried to save had fallen. "I should have made a greater effort to ensure your children remained behi—"

As Vision turned back toward the group, he stopped speaking abruptly as Erik, with his powers, threw the remains of a giant airplane's wing directly at Vision, which of course passed straight through him much to Erik's annoyance.

"He will not be going with you!" said Erik heatedly getting to his feet. Somewhere in his mind, he knew Vision wasn't to blame for his son's current situation. Much like Erik, when his children set their minds to something they wouldn't be moved from that decision, so he knew there was nothing anyone could have done to stop Pietro and Wanda from trying to fight for what they believed in. But that didn't stop Erik from needing someone at which he could direct his anger, and he was level-headed enough to realize he couldn't blame Wanda of this world as he had in fact directed her to stay away from his children, but he had made no such comment to Vision.

Erik continued, "If it were not for Stark and all of you who supported him, my son would not be in this situation in the first place! I will find somewhere else to—"

The sounding of retching cut Erik off mid-rant, and he returned quickly to his son's side to find him sitting up and puking quite nearly on the elder Wanda, who seemed unconcerned by the vomit but extremely concerned about Pietro, as was his twin.

"It's alright Pietro. You're okay. It's just a side effect of the concussion. You're alright." Said Erik trying to assure himself as much as Pietro. As the boy finished vomiting, Erik took the end of his sleeve and wiped the remaining residue from around Pietro's mouth. Then he carefully scooped Pietro up bridal style and stood up once more, wondering as he did so if there would ever come time when it took any effort at all to pick up his son. Erik cringed momentarily at how easily he could still feel Pietro's ribs, despite the little bit of weight he had managed to put on in the past few weeks, but he had to deal with one crises at a time. Right now the fact that he could feel the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest against his own was the more important factor.

His sister had risen right along-side Erik and clutched Pietro's outer hand tightly in her own. "Stay awake, Pietro. You've got a stay awake, remember?"

"Cn't fo'get…guys k'p remindin' me. D'nt get why th'o. 'mm tired." Pietro managed to mumbled from his position against Erik's chest, causing Wanda to dawn a strained smile, a little reassured by the fact that her brother was still conscious, even if he was confused.

"D'nt feel v'ry good th'o." Pietro slurred

"I know, Pietro. You'll feel better soon. We're going to go…" Erik trialed off.

_Where were they going to go?_

Erik had no idea where the nearest hospital was, and even if he did, he didn't want them poking and prodding Pietro, which once they inevitably discovered he wasn't quite normal would probably be all they'd want to do. But he didn't want to go back with the Avengers either. He didn't want to be forever entangled in their web of coercion, but it was seeming more and more likely that if Pietro were to receive adequate medical attention, they would be the only ones who could provide it.

That's when a familiar voice behind him broke the silence, "It looks like you need a ride again."

Careful not to jostle Pietro, Erik turned toward the owner of the voice: Agent May.

"Don't." said May holding up a hand. "Before you say anything. I did _not_ come back here because I felt guilty for making you walk. After I dropped you off I just happened to cross paths with another aircraft, which was piloted by none other than Captain America. From that it wasn't hard to deduce that you were either here as a friend or foe to him. Based on recent events and the 'conversation' you were just having, I think it's safe to assume the former. And against protocol or not, if the boss ever found out I didn't do everything I could to assist _the_ Captain America _and_ his allies, then I'd probably be out of a job. So. It looks like you could use a doctor. I happen to know a good one who's close by. If you can trust me, then I'll take you to her."

Erik tightened his hold on Pietro. Should he trust this woman who he barely knew? The woman who had delayed Erik from reaching his children sooner and possibly prevented him from stopping his son's fall, but who had also ferried him to another continent. Or did he go back with the Avengers who, as capable as their medical staff might be, were controlled by people who at the very least would no doubt continue to try to exploit him and one day, quite possibly, his children.

"Erik." It was Natasha's voice that pulled Erik from his thoughts this time. He hadn't seen her approach, but there she was, standing in a skin tight jumpsuit where Vision had been a minute or two before but was no longer. He had probably taken off to assist Stark or inform him of what was happening here.

"You should go with her." Said Natasha. "Vision's right. We would help your son, but Ross won't be happy with everything that's happened and you being less than cooperative. He needs to hold people accountable. And whether that means coercing you to work for him or locking you up, it definitely doesn't mean letting you go home, if you do somehow find a way to go back to your own universe."

Natasha lip turned up into a small smile. "You don't have to deal with this world's problems Erik. I suspect your world has quite enough to occupy you. Besides, you've literally got your hands full already."

Erik knew what Natasha was saying was the truth. If there was one Avenger he actually trusted, it would be her. But he didn't know what to say to her, so he just nodded as the sound of sirens started to pass through the air. Evidently the Avenger's reinforcements, were getting close.

"I'll take that to mean you're accepting my offer." Said Agent May. "Let's go then. Surprisingly, I don't actually feel like fighting my way out of here today."

"I'm coming with you." Said the elder Wanda.

Erik was about to say no, but then she continued before he could.

"Please…I need to know that he'll be okay." Said the girl looking up at him. Her words laced with more sadness than anyone her age should ever carry.

Erik was still going to argue with her; He remained unsettled by the idea of having her around his children, knowing who she really was, but he didn't really have time to argue and if someone tried to follow them, it wouldn't hurt to have another superpowered individual on their side.

"Alright." Said Erik gruffly, causing the young woman to break out in a relieved smile and head toward Agent May, but a man with a bow and arrow who had been hanging back unnoticed by Erik until now and who Erik didn't recognize but assumed was another Avenger—apparently there were a lot of them—pulled her to the side and exchanged a few quick words with her before letting her continue on her way and gazing at Erik rather accusingly.

Erik paid him no mind though, as he—with Pietro in his arms—headed off to follow Agent May toward wherever she had left her jet.

"Erik." Said Natasha approaching him as he turned to leave.

"Try to remember to be a father, before a fighter. Now go." Said Natasha giving him a shove, gentle enough to not actually cause him to move or anyway threaten his grip on Pietro.

Erik nodded once more, looking down at the child by his side who still looked terribly distressed as she whispered reassurances to her brother in an effort to keep him awake and the child in his arms who was struggling to remain conscious.

"I will." Said Erik as he finally headed off toward where the other Wanda and Agent May were waiting, thankful that whatever was to come, he had the two most important people in his life—in this world or another—back with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like people are a little out of character in this chapter. I struggled to get into their heads this time for some reason…I had a fun time writing Erik and Wanda's parallel struggles though.
> 
> Comments bring light to my life. Thanks for reading.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the amazing piece of artwork inspired by this chapter and created by Shoyzz that is featured in the chapter above too. A big thank you to Shoyzz for allowing me to share it! Here's the link to where it was originally posted if you want to check it out there too: http://shoyzz-art.deviantart.com/art/Peter-Wanda-682260909


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So bad news, I have to send in my computer to be repaired, so that might slow my writing process, not that I update very quickly normally, but anyway, unfortunately it has to be done.
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains mentions of self-harm.
> 
> Also, thank you for everyone who has left reviews!
> 
> Anywho, Merry Christmas and Happy New Chapter!
> 
> Please feel free to share your thoughts! You all keep this story alive. (:

**AVENGER'S WANDA POV**

Their flight was decidedly quiet. The silence interrupted only by Erik and his daughter's soothing assurances to Pietro as they focused on making sure he remained awake and alert, while also trying to answer his confused questioned filled rambles. Pietro couldn't remember what had happened, and he was inconsolably upset by this, causing him to shed frustrated tears. Then he'd grow more distressed and embarrassed because he didn't know why he was so emotional, which only served to upset the boy more. That and the fact that no one would let him sleep.

The elder Wanda remained mostly mute throughout the flight. She desperately wanted to comfort young Pietro, but she knew it wasn't her place to do so. The boy already had a family that cared for him with every fiber of their being. Wanda just considered herself lucky to have even been allowed to accompany them.

Fortunately, wherever the mysterious Agent May, was taking them turned out to be relatively close, or maybe it was just that May had flown at a speed definitely not recommended for commercial flights. If that were true, Wanda certainly didn't mind. If it got Pietro to a doctor faster, then she didn't care how fast they went.

Wanda was fairly certain that the symptoms Pietro was exhibiting were common in instances of severe concussions, which was both reassuring and worrisome. The Avenger had once endured a concussion herself. At least, Wanda figured it had been a concussion. It's not like she had the funds at the time to go to a doctor and get a diagnosis.

It had been at one of the protests she and her brother had attended back in Sokovia, before they had naively accepted an offer to help their country in an even more radical manner. After several hours of marching and shouting, the police had finally decided it was time to step in and break up the protest by use of tear gas. In the resulting stampede of people trying to avoid the gas _and_ being arrested, Wanda and Pietro had been separated, and in the panic, she fell and hit her head. Fortunately, nothing could keep her brother from her for long, and mere seconds after she'd fallen, _her_ Pietro had been there to pick her up and keep her from sustaining any further injuries.

He was always doing that…looking out for her…and looking out for others…right to the very end…

Wanda remembered feeling nauseous and sleepy for a couple of hours, and though she had also been unable to focus for quite some time, she didn't remember being as emotional or confused as Pietro currently was. Though she also never loss consciousness, and she had been older than Pietro when it happened, so maybe that had something to do with the differences between their symptoms.

Wanda just hoped the boy wasn't suffering from anything more serious than a concussion—not that they should be taken lightly—but with her limited medical knowledge, she couldn't make that assessment.

* * *

Their flight came to an end in the middle of small clearing in a remote German forest by a cliff face. Wanda took her gaze off of Pietro momentarily from across the jet to watch as May steered the jet so it was in front of the rock formation. The woman let it hover there as if she were waiting for something.

Knowing that Erik and the other Wanda weren't paying attention to anything other than Pietro, Wanda approached the front of the aircraft and was about to ask what they were waiting for when a small rod poked out of the side of the cliff as if from nowhere. The rod projected a green light that cascaded over the aircraft, appearing to scan it. Then, there was but a moment's pause before the cliff opened up to reveal a hidden manmade structure inside.

_Whoa._

May expertly piloted the jet inside bringing it to a standstill in the hidden room before the cliff closed behind them. Wanda figured to the outside world, the cliff face would once again appear to be no more than a natural formation, concealing all traces of the manmade structure deep within.

Next to Wanda, May unbuckled, and stood up, her movements precise and purposeful. Wanda immediately followed her to the back of the plane where Erik, and the other Wanda were huddled around Pietro.

"We're here." Said May as she hit the button to open the back of the jet and walked toward the exit.

Erik and his daughter both looked up. The younger Wanda appeared somewhat surprised. To some extent, the elder Wanda knew what she was feeling. It's amazing how easy it is to become completely unaware of your entire surroundings when someone you love is in pain.

Though Erik's face didn't show his surprise, his eyes darted around, clearly taking in his surroundings as he proceeded down the jet's exit ramp with Pietro in his arms and his daughter a mere step behind them.

"Where is here exactly?" asked Erik suspiciously as the group approached another door, which May quickly opened with a passcode and her handprint. "This doctor you know is here? Pietro needs medical attention _now_ , so this better not be a pit stop _._ "

"It's a secret base of the organization I work for, and _yes_ Mr. Lensherr, the doctor I mentioned is here." Replied May as they followed her down a windowless hallway.

Wanda focused on taking deep breaths as she walked along the corridor. If she wasn't so concerned about Pietro, it's likely she wouldn't have been able to keep an outwardly calm appearance. The place reminded her too much of her time with Hydra. Unlike the Avenger's Headquarters, which was above ground with windows allowing sunlight and views of wide open spaces that kept her memories of that time in her life at bay, the Hydra facility she and her brother had been at had been windowless and confining. Her measure of time Wanda spent there was scattered at best, but she figured she and Pietro went at least a year without seeing the light of day.

The way this placed seemed just as closed off from the world made Wanda wonder or more accurately fear that they had made a grave mistake trusting this mysterious woman. But if her fear came to be realized, Wanda was prepared to fight to the death to get Pietro, his sister, and even Erik out of this place. They were a family, and they should be together. Wanda on the other hand, was just intruding on a family that didn't belong to her and which she didn't belong to.

Then it occurred to her Wanda, just what organization May might work for. She had thought it'd been wiped out, but if May really did work for the group she was thinking of, it honestly didn't surprise her that it had survived.

"The organization you work for is S.H.I.E.L.D., isn't it?" asked Wanda.

May didn't answer, but her silence was enough of a confirmation for Wanda.

"What's shield?" asked the younger Wanda, curious despite her concern for Pietro.

"It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. It's a government agency that was meant to protect the earth from all possible threats. I thought it had been wiped out after it was compromised by a Hydra—that's a terrorist organization set on world domination—but apparently it survived." Answered the older girl.

"I don't care who it is she works for." Erik grumbled, referring to May. "As long as they help my son."

Speaking of whom, at that moment Pietro's small scared voice brought any further discussion on the matter to an end.

"Wanda? D—dad? Where're we goin'? What's goin' on?"

The boy tried to raise his head from Erik's arms and look around, but it must've been too tiring because a moment later he rested his head back against Erik's chest.

"We're going to go see someone that'll help you feel better." Answered Erik, the soft cadence of his voice contrasting greatly with the tone he had just used to speak to May.

"Yo-you said somethin' 'bout a doctor." Said Pietro looking up from Erik's arms to his father's face with wide frightened eyes.

Erik didn't answer right away. Wanda could tell he was contemplating lying to his son, but she figured Erik didn't want to confuse Pietro anymore by pretending they hadn't just been talking about him seeing a doctor.

"Yes, we're taking you to see a doctor, Pietro, but this doctor is going to help you. I promise. I'll make sure of it." Said Erik raising his gaze from Pietro to glare at May, who just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him as they continued walking.

"But I—I don't like doct'rs." Said Pietro as he shivered in Erik's arms.

Erik's face grew noticeably pained at the boy's words and he tightened his hold on his son. "I know, Pietro. It'll be alright though. Your sister and I will be with you the entire time…and the other Wanda too." Said Erik his eyes flashing over to Wanda momentarily before he focused once more on his son.

"But—but why 'm I seein' a doct'r?" asked Pietro worriedly as the rate at which he spoke increased, "AmIsick? IthoughtIwasbett'rnow. MayrasaidIdidn'thavetoseedoctorsanymore. Ireallydon'tlikedoctors."

Wanda watched as Erik tried to sooth the boy. "I know, Pietro. You're not sick, but we have to take you to a doctor because you hit your head, remember?" asked Erik a bit hopefully.

Pietro's face scrunched up a little as if he were trying to remember, "Yes…No…I don't know. 'm tired."

Erik gave Pietro a small sad smile. "I know you are, Pietro, but you've got to stay awake a bit longer, alright?"

Erik reluctantly took his gaze off Pietro as he addressed Agent May. "How much farther? He needs assistance now."

"No farther. We're here." Said May as they came to a large sealed metal door. There was no handprint scan this time, but there was number pad located to the side of the door, which May quickly headed over to, where she entered a series of numbers presumably to unlock the door…only nothing happened.

May cursed under her breathe, and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "I swear if Fitz changed the passcode again…" The woman entered a series of numbers once more, but only succeeded in causing an inanimate voice to calmly announce that if they entered the passcode one more time the alarm would sound and they would face imminent death.

Clearly frustrated May took a cell phone out of her pocket, but she didn't get a chance to call whomever she was planning on contacting, because the next thing she knew the door was ripped off its hinges by an invisible force, at which point everyone turned to look at Erik. He was still holding Pietro, but his arm that was supporting the boy's legs was extended forward slightly, his fingers stretched out as if he had just swiped at the air, which obviously he had.

May gave him a calculating look, "Well that was excessive…but effective."

"It was necessary." Said Erik unashamed. "I was growing impatient."

Stepping over the crumbled door, May led the group into the room that lay behind it, which looked eerily like a science lab of some kind. There were microscopes, computers, and all sorts of gadgets, which Wanda hadn't the faintest idea were for. There was also a young man with short curly brownish blond hair, who with his jeans, flannel shirt and cardigan looked more like he should be working in a library rather than the covert agency that employed Agent May.

The man was sitting on a stool in front of a computer staring at them with his mouth slightly open and a sandwich in his hands as if he were just about to take a bite. Wanda didn't blame him for appearing so blatantly surprised. Their arrival had to certainly be shocking. They were quite the group.

"Fitz." Said May addressing the man. "Where's Simmons?"

'Fitz' didn't seem to hear May, his eyes traveling from the younger Wanda to Erik and Pietro coming to rest on Wanda.

" _He's_ a doctor?" asked Erik obviously unimpressed.

"No. He is a genius, but not the kind we need." Said May answering Erik before addressing the man name Fitz once more, raising her voice slightly. "Fitz! Simmons, where. Is. She?"

Recovering from the shock of the unexpected guests, Fitz gave his head a little shake and jumped to his feet, sandwich still in hand. "Restroom. That is, she went to the restroom. I'll…I'll just go get her, right? Yea, okay. I'm going now." Said the man with a Scottish accent, making as if to take off in the other direction, but then he stopped short, seeming to realize he was still holding his sandwich. He did a little indecisive dance before setting it down and quickly scampering off.

"That's Leo Fitz. He's our weapons/tech. specialist and a brilliant engineer…he's just…he's Fitz." Said May as if that explained everything. "He'll be back with Simmons. She's the doctor."

Erik still looked skeptical, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, as a moment later, the man named Fitz returned followed by a young woman with light brown hair wearing a simple burgundy blouse and black dress pants.

As she entered the room, agent May was the first person she laid eyes on and the woman, presumably Simmons, immediately started speaking also in a foreign accent, but this time a British one, "May, what is it? Fitz was going on about an Avenger being here and…" The woman's eyes quickly found the rest of the room's occupants widening a bit as her eyes found the elder Wanda's but her focus immediately changed as she noticed Erik holding Pietro.

"He's hurt! Here, set him down just there." Said the woman clearing off a space on one of the lab tables practically throwing the objects that were in the way into Fitz's arms.

Erik hesitated. Wanda could tell he was still unsure of the entire situation, but she at least didn't find these Fitz or Simmons individuals particularly threatening. Though she knew looks could be deceiving.

"Lensherr." Said May "Let her help. No one is trying to kill you or your children, and you've trusted me this far."

Erik remained expressionless in his reply, "Don't confuse necessity with trust Agent May." But he nonetheless approached the table and a manner that was the polar opposite of his coldness. Erik gently set Pietro on the table putting him into a sitting position in front of Simmons with his feet dangling off the edge…or at least he attempted to.

The boy grabbed hold of his father's shirt when he realized he was being put down. "Da—dad." There was noticeable fear in Pietro's voice and he looked even paler than usual. The small trail of blood from the cut above the boy's eye stood out starkly against his white skin. Pietro might not know exactly what was going on, but he was aware enough to realize that he was no longer in the safety of his father's strong arms. Once again, Wanda wanted to comfort him, but she knew it wasn't her place to do so. That was a job for his real family.

Wanda thought Erik or the other Wanda would reassure the boy his was safe, but Simmons beat them both to the punch.

"It's alright. Your father's not going anywhere. He can stay right here with you." Said Simmons giving him a smile, her voice calm and friendly.

"Me too." Said the younger Wanda stepping forward to stand beside her father.

"Yes and your…sister? is right here too." Said Simmons.

Pietro still looked scared and confused but he let Erik gently unclasp his hand as the man spoke softly to the boy in what sounded like German. Erik didn't step away either, he remained firmly by Pietro's side, helping him sit upright with a hand on his back as the other Wanda took hold of the boy's now free hand.

"There, see you're alright. Now, could someone tell me the nature of his injuries? He has a head injury, obviously, but knowing the manner of the injury would be helpful. Has he been demonstrating signs of drowsiness and nausea?" Said Simons as she turned to face Fitz. "Fitz, flashlight."

The man named Fitz jumped to his feet, "On it." He said as he grabbed a small pen sized flashlight from a drawer and handed it to Simmons.

"He fell from…I—I don't know 30 or 40 feet and hit his head on the concrete." Answered the other Wanda, her voice still tinged with worry for her brother. "And yes he threw up, and he keeps saying he's tired."

"Okay. Pietro, is it?" asked Simmons looking over at Erik and Wanda for confirmation who both nodded. "Pietro, do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?"

The boy leaned toward Erik, clearly nervous around people who he didn't know, not to mention the fact that he was still rather out of it. "I—I d'n't know. I was jus' tryin' to help, I think." Angry tears started to form in the boy's eyes "I don't 'member. I wanna go home. Can we go home?" asked Pietro looking over at Wanda and up at Erik.

Wanda watched as her namesake's face crumpled, she was the one who had brought them to this world after all. She clearly felt guilty that what Pietro wanted, she couldn't give him, at least not at the moment.

"You're upsetting him." Erik growled as he moved closer to his son "We don't even know exactly where we are. You shouldn't expect him to know!"

"Hey, she's just doing her job and trying to help!" said the man named Fitz moving to stand besides Simmons, clearly doing his best to look intimidating, but failing rather miserably.

"Relax Fitz. It's fine." Said the young woman easily brushing off Erik's anger. "I'm going to shine a light in your eyes now okay, Pietro? Just look straight ahead if you can."

The boy didn't respond, but he nor Erik made anymore objections, so Simmons raised the small flashlight, turning it on and moving it from one eye to the other.

"Good. Very good, Pietro." Said Simmons to the boy before directing her attention to Erik. "His pupils are functioning normally, that's a good sign."

Looking back at Pietro, Simmons addressed the boy again, "Okay, Pietro, try to follow the flashlight with your eyes without turning your head, alright?" said Simmons holding up the small flashlight in front of him and moving it slowly from side to side. The boy tried to track the object, but he kept turning his head slightly as it moved.

"Okay hon, good job. Can you stand up for me? Your dad can help you."

Pietro looked at Erik hesitantly before he moved to try to slide off the table, but Erik lifted him up and set him on his feet before he could do anything as foolish as try to jump down. Erik kept a firm grip on Pietro though, evidently afraid he would topple over as soon as he let go.

Immediately seeing how dizzy Pietro was, Simmons spoke up, "Okay you can sit back down Pietro." But instead of helping him back onto the table, Erik just scooped Pietro up into his arms once more, where the boy seemed to fit perfectly.

"Well he definitely has a concussion." Said Simmons. "He's pupils dilated normally, so I'm not too worried, but due to the extent of his other symptoms, I'd like to do a CT-scan just to be safe. Fitz can you go get a wheelchair, so his father doesn't have to carry him?"

"It's fine. I've got him. Don't bother." Said Erik

"Alright, this way then. Maybe, uh the rest of you could stay here, the room might get a little cramped otherwise. Fitz and May can get you some food." Said Simmons

"I'm staying with my brother." Said the younger Wanda immediately.

"Okay, that's fine, I just thought—"

"I'll stay here. I'll make sure they have some good snacks for Pietro when he's feeling up to eating, which I'm sure will be soon." Said the elder Wanda giving Erik and the younger girl what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Okay this way then. Mr. Lensherr, right?" Said Simmons as Erik nodded again.

"Jemma" started Fitz "Maybe I should go with you—"

"It's fine Fitz. The man is a worried father who is friends with an Avenger no less. I think I'll be fine." Responded Simmons unconcerned.

Fitz still looked worried, but he didn't argue further. The three left behind watched the family and the doctor disappear around the corner, but Wanda would bet her life that it wasn't nearly as difficult for them to let the group out of their sight as it was for her.

* * *

**ERIK POV**

Since he found the twins at the airport, time had somehow managed to both go by in a blur while also dragging along. Erik hated feeling helpless, and that's all he'd been feeling recently. Despite May following through with her promise to get Pietro the help of a doctor, Erik was still on guard. Then again, he probably would always be on guard where his children were concerned.

After Dr. Simmons—he could hardly believe that girl was a doctor, she seemed far too young, but he supposed people felt the same way about Charles when he first got his PhD—did her cursory examination of Pietro, he'd had to help get Pietro ready for the CT-scan.

The first struggle was getting him to put on a gown. The boy was extremely self-conscious of his body. Erik didn't know if that was because of all his scars, how thin he was, his prior experience with doctors and that god awful facility, or simply because he was a teenager, but for one reason or another he was none too happy to have to shed the security of his favorite jacket along with the rest of his clothes minus his boxers and trade them for what was essentially a hospital gown. It also didn't help that the boy could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be. At least Erik was there to help him so he wouldn't have to have his sister do it, since there was no way Pietro could manage the task himself in his current impeded state.

Although Erik wished Pietro wasn't injured in the first place, since the CT-scan was necessary it was a good thing Pietro was rather docile at the moment and Erik had a significant height and weight advantage over the boy, or it would be much more of a challenge. Erik could only imagine what it would have been like for Magda or Marya to get Pietro dressed everyday if he had had his powers as a toddler. Thank goodness for their sake he hadn't gotten them until he was old enough to dress himself.

Erik had finally managed to coax Pietro out of his jacket and was just going to pull the boy's shirt off before he had time to protest when he noticed one of his wrists was wrapped in fairly fresh bandage. Confused, Erik paused.

_How did that happen? He wasn't injured there before I left for Germany._

Erik wanted to ask his son what had happened, but he didn't want to delay the exam any longer, and Pietro probably wouldn't be able to focus enough to explain what happened anyway, so Erik made a mental note to ask the young doctor to look at the injury and ask Wanda or Pietro about it when he was better.

* * *

Some five or ten minutes later, Erik had successful swapped Pietro's clothes for the metal free attire of the hospital gown. He knew the absence of metal was required for the CT-scan, but Erik didn't like not being able to automatically sense his son's location. He wondered if Wanda and Pietro would agree to wear metal bracelets or necklaces if he fashioned some for them at some point. That wouldn't be too overprotective of him in light of all they'd experienced, would it? It'd sure put Erik's mind more at ease being able to immediately sense them when he was within their approximate location.

After setting Pietro's clothes and shoes neatly on a chair, Erik picked up his son—who was now rambling incoherently about being both tired _and_ cold, which Erik wouldn't have been ashamed to admit was awfully cute, if he wasn't so concerned about why Pietro was so tired—and carried him across the hall to where Dr. Simmons and his daughter were waiting.

Once Erik saw the large machine that would be used to do the scan of Pietro's brain, he began to worry that Pietro would panic when he realized he had to lie still in another intimidatingly confining machine, but as he set the boy, who had gone quiet, down on the apparatus, he realized Pietro had fallen asleep. Panicking a bit Erik moved to wake him up, but before he could, Simmons put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"Don't. It's okay, he can sleep through it." She assured him.

"But he has a head injury, shouldn't he be kept awake?" asked Erik distrustfully.

"That's actually a common misconception. Rest is very thing he needs to recover, and what better way to do that than sleep. We'll wake him up every couple of hours to be safe, but really his body is begging for some rest. Let him have it." Responded Simmons gently.

Erik narrowed his eyes, looking at her intently trying to gage the truthfulness of her statement. He didn't want to traumatize Pietro if it really wasn't necessary for him to be awake, and the young doctor hadn't given him a reason to distrust her yet.

"You better be right." Said Erik reluctantly, as he carded one hand through Pietro's hair.

"I am. I'll just check his pulse to put your mind at ease and make sure it's at a steady rate and then we can get started." Said Simmons confidently placing two fingers on the boy's wrist that was closest to her, which happened to be the uninjured one.

Erik tensed. If he stopped her, she would wonder why and perhaps think Erik didn't care that much about his child after all. If he didn't, she would find out that Pietro was not a normal boy…

Erik made his choice. It had taken him a bit to decide, he was frazzled by Pietro's current state, but as Erik went over the events that had occurred since they'd arrived at this hidden base, Erik realized the young woman truly seemed to care about helping Pietro.

"You won't be able to measure it." Said Erik definitively.

"What?" asked Simmons distractedly. Her face was the picture of concentration, but it was also puzzled. Erik could tell she was growing confused, as she realized she could not count the beats of the boy's heart, despite the steady rise and fall of his chest as Pietro breathed in and out in his slumber. Perhaps she could feel a steady buzz or vibration of the boy's blood being pumped through his body, but Erik knew distinguishing individual heart beats would be an impossible feat.

"His heart beats faster than the average's individual… _much_ faster. I'd be more concerned if you could measure it." Continued Erik, one hand still lying gently on the boy's head. Erik had wiped the trail of blood from his son's face earlier, and Simmons had patched up the cut, so the teen at least looked little better.

"Oh! Okay, I was wondering if you all were inhumans because you arrived with Wanda Maximoff, and I didn't notice the lab door was destroyed, but that's not something you just ask someone upon first meeting them, so I didn't want to bring it up. It's fascinating to consider the number of inhumans that are out there and their different abilities and—" Simmons stopped speaking abruptly, probably noticing the emerging look of distrust appearing once again on Erik's face as he considered the possibility that he had in fact misjudged the young doctor and she did just want to study them all like lab rats.

"and now I'm rambling." Said Simmons blushing slightly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be offensive. I just think it's amazing what people like Miss Maximoff can do, and the potential they have to help so many in need, not to mention the hope they can give them. Anyway, let's get this exam done make sure your son is okay. Shall we?"

Erik nodded, but didn't move just yet. "I believe Pietro has an older injury on his other arm, if you would…please look at it. I don't know if he wrapped it himself or if he had helped but it would better for a professional to examine it I would think." Said Erik to Simmons, trying to remember to be civil to the person helping his son. He even threw in a please.

"Of course. No problem. I'll take a look at it right after the scan. Are you ready?" asked Simmons.

"Yes." Said Erik smoothing Pietro's hair back away from his forehead once more, saying a short pray that his son would be alright, before stepping back and following the woman from the room to wait with his daughter and allow the exam to begin.

* * *

Much to Erik's relief, the results were all encouraging. There was no bleeding or swelling around Pietro's brain, which was a very promising. According to Simmons, Pietro would make a full recovery. She assured him and Wanda that although the concussion had been severe, after some much needed rest, Pietro would be back to his old self. She estimated that the side effects of the concussion would fade in a week or two, as long as he refrained from extensive exercise, intellectually stimulating reading, video games, and any other activities that might be strenuous to his mind or body.

So basically Erik was going to have to watch Pietro 24/7 to keep the boy from doing everything he enjoyed, well maybe he wouldn't have to worry too much about the reading. He didn't know how big of a reader Pietro was considering reading was not the liveliest activity, but Erik could be wrong. It was just one more tidbit of information that a parent who had been around since his child's birth would know, but that Erik did not.

"Can we go in and see him now?" asked Wanda hopefully.

"Yes. Please do. Then I can show you to a room, where you all be able to rest and refresh." Said Simmons, but Wanda had barely waited for her response before tearing back into the room where Pietro was still lying asleep.

Erik went to follow her but Simmons stepped in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at her and tried not to glare at the woman who had just shared the best news Erik could have hoped for under the circumstances.

"Just a moment, Mr. Lensherr. There's still more I need to tell you, and I thought it best not to do it with your daughter around."

_More? What more could there be? Was she merely lying for Wanda's benefit? Is she going to tell me Pietro is actually seriously injured?_

"What is it?" demanded Erik. "I thought you said he would be fine. What is it you have to tell me that you couldn't say in front of my daughter?"

"He—he is fine!" said Simmons holding up her hands reassuringly. "It's not about his head injury. It's about the injury to his arm."

Erik relaxed slightly.

"Is it severe or does he have an infected wound? I figured he just scraped his arm on something while engaging in something he probably shouldn't have been doing, but if it's infected, do you not have the medication to handle that? I would think that a place with brain imaging technology would have—"

"No, no." said Simmons cutting Erik off. "I mean yes, we have the medication to deal with an infection, but the wound isn't infected. It was a clean cut, not too deep, and it was bandaged quite well actually…"

"Well then what's the issue? If there's no problem, then I would like to see my son now, doctor. Excuse me." Said Erik moving to go around the woman.

"Wait!" said Simmons trying to keep herself in front of Erik as he moved to open the door to the adjacent room. "You can see him, of course, but...I just, I think you should know that…I believe the cut was self-inflicted."

Erik froze. The metal pipes within the walls of the hall around them vibrated, and without Erik consciously meaning for it to happen, one pipe burst from a wall nearby, nearly hitting Fitz who had been headed their way anxious to check on Simmons, since they'd been gone for some time.

"Ahh!" screamed Fitz in a rather unmasculine manner falling to the ground in surprise as the pipe jutted out in front of him. Momentarily distracted by the sound of Fitz's scream, Erik and Simmons both looked his way.

Noticing their gazes, Fitz jumped back onto his feet. "I'm—I'm good. Little bugger, shot right out of there. That's gonna be a bastard to fix, you know. I'll have to get—"

"Fitz!" said Simmons unfazed by the sudden dislodged pipe or perhaps just better at controlling her surprise, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I uh…" said Fitz looking down and rubbing the back of his neck nervously with one hand, "I was just seeing how things were going. Miss Maximoff, that is, the Avenger, uh, Wanda wanted an update. Everything good here?"

"Yes, Fitz. Thank you. Everything is fine. We're _all_ fine. I'll be out in a moment, and you can let Miss Maximoff know that Pietro is going to be fine too. He just needs to rest. Could you give us a moment please?" said Simmons addressing Fitz.

"Yea, sure. I'll just go get my tools…" said Fitz glancing their way once more before heading back the way he came.

Finally able to focus once again, Erik turned back to Simmons "Wh—what, did you say?"

Simmons face softened. "I believe Pietro cut his arm himself on purpose. There doesn't appear to be any other evidence of older self-inflicted cuts on his wrists, but I couldn't help but noticed the tattoos and brand on his arms. It's obvious your son has been through something horrific recently, and sometimes one's response, especially someone as young as your son, to trauma is to hurt themselves. That's why I wanted you to know. Not only are you going to have to make sure Pietro doesn't over exert himself, but you're also going to have to make sure he finds a safer way to cope with whatever horrors are in his past."

Erik couldn't think straight. His head was spinning. Pietro had been through so much, but Erik thought he was doing better, but then if that were true, "why would he do this to himself?"

Erik hadn't realized he had spoken out loud until Simmons answered him. "It might not make sense, but sadly it happens more often than you would think. Sometimes physical pain is easier to deal with than the pain we feel within. All you can do is help your son realize he doesn't have to bear any of that pain alone, and that there are better ways to handle it."

Simmons paused momentarily. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lensherr. I'm sorry for whatever happened to your family, and I know I can't promise it, but I think things are going to get better."

Erik wanted to believe her, but he didn't know if he could. All he could do was take everything a day at a time.

"Thank you for telling me." Said Erik finally, not trusting himself to say more as his throat tight with emotion.

"Of course. Just let me know when you're ready, and I'll show you all to where you'll be staying."

Erik nodded to the young woman, before walking into the room where his son and daughter were waiting, wondering if there would ever come a time when his children's lives would not be haunted by pain and suffering. At this point, he never expected his life to be filled with happiness, but he could still hope for his children because they actually deserved to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've said this before, but I don't know squat about anything to do with medicine. I'm just basing Pietro's symptoms on my own experiences with concussions and internet research. Fun fact, when I got a concussion, my doctor told me 'don't do any intellectual reading for a week, but something like Twilight is probably okay.' Not even kidding. Those were her exact words.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter for anyone who needs a break from reality right now. 2017 is off to a bit of a rough start…but we've got to count our blessings I suppose.

PIETRO POV

When Pietro finally woke up on his own, his first thought as his eyes slowly opened and he looked up at a bright white ceiling was that he was back at the facility. His body immediately tensed. Perhaps it had all been an elaborate dream, and he had never left there at all. Wanda and Erik had never rescued him, and he was doomed to live out his life in that godforsaken place until his age matched his hair color. But before he could fall into a full blown panic attack, Pietro saw that he wasn't alone, and he knew he couldn't be back there.

His twin was sitting on the end of the bed where he lay, her legs forming an arch over his own as she sat with her back against the wall, gazing at a tablet on her lap. Pietro closed his eyes and lay his head back onto the pillow in relief. He must've made some noise or changed his breathing though because a moment later his sister's questioning voice called his name.

"Pietro?" asked Wanda. Her voice was hopeful, but unsure, like she'd been calling his name for hours and didn't really expect an answer this time any more than she had the other hundred times.

Pietro thought about staying silent. The bed he was lying on was super comfortable and despite actually feeling pretty well rested for once in his life, he was pretty sure that he could easily fall back to sleep if he tried. Now that he knew a _calm_ Wanda was sitting dutifully by his side, he wasn't too worried about where they were. As long as his sister was with him, and she wasn't freaking out, everything was okay. But he was awake now, so he might as well get up and figure out exactly what was going on.

Pietro grinned, opened his eyes, and propped himself up on his elbow before responding "Hey sis! You seem pretty chill, so I'm pretty sure the answer is no, but can you just confirm we're not in some posh prison or the slammer or I don't know, a neat freak's dream home?"

Pietro expected Wanda to give him some witty and annoyed response, but instead, the next thing he knew, Wanda was practically smothering him, pulling him into a tight hug. Okay, so she wasn't really smothering him. She actually seemed to be holding back, like she was afraid she'd hurt him, so it wasn't the strongest suffocating sisterly hug he'd ever endured, but it was probably up there.

When Wanda finally pulled away, her eyes were glistening, and she wiped them quickly on one sleeve.

A little concerned now, Pietro asked, "um are you okay? Now, I'm starting to get a tinsy bit worried that we are actually in prison, like a really nice prison if they give you access to fancy electronics, but still possibly a prison."

Wanda smiled broadly at him. It looked genuine, but something told him she hadn't smiled for a while.

_So not prison?_

"Now that you're awake, I'm perfectly fine. And don't worry we're not in a prison, or captured or anything like that. We're in a safe place with good people." Answered Wanda leaning back against the wall once more to give him a little space.

"Okaaaay. That was rather vague, but alright cool. If you ask me, a day is moving in the right direction if you start out not being a prisoner." Said Pietro looking around at the room more closely. Minus the flat screen TV on the wall, it had a pretty basic layout. There was the bed he was laying on, a couple of pristine white chairs, a coffee table, and the door to the room, which though closed, seemed pretty normal looking. But the plain whiteness of the room and its lack of windows was concerning, but if Wanda wasn't worried about it then everything had to be fine.

Wanda's voice interrupted his assessment. "How are you feeling? Does your head hurt? What do you remember?" Wanda asked in rapid fire. Not that he minded waiting for his sister to speak, but he did kinda wish she'd speak that fast all the time. It was refreshing.

"Pretty good." Said Pietro without missing a beat. That was the truth, mostly. He did get a little bit of a head rush when he first sat up, and he had a bit of a headache for some reason, but nothing unbearable. He didn't even remember having a nightmare either, so that was a bonus. Overall, he felt like he'd been asleep for a really long time and he was itching to get up and move. Pietro felt like it had been ages since he had had a chance to run, ages since the airport and…wait. Why weren't they at the airport? Why did Wanda ask him what he remembered? Why _couldn't_ he remember how'd they'd gotten to this place?

Pietro frowned.

_Not good._

"Pietro? What's the last thing you remember?" Wanda asked again more gently this time as she noticed his frown.

Pietro racked his brain. He knew they'd left the Avengers facility to go help Captain America, and then he'd eventually convinced Wanda to go to the airport once the giant guy appeared and then…"I remember running with you to the airport and saving spider—totally has a crush on my sister—guy from massive splinters." Pietro paused thinking, the frown still present on his face.

The next thing he remembered was Wanda basically telling him he wasn't strong enough to protect himself, but Pietro didn't really want to get into that discussion right now, so he skipped over that part, "then Stark showed up and you totally schooled him before he could lecture us too completely, and then I went off to see if Cap needed help and then…then I…"

Pietro raised both hands to his temples, and closed his eyes willing himself to remember, but all he succeeded in doing was making his headache worse.

"It's okay, Pete." Said Wanda pulling his hands away from his face.

"But why can't I remember?! What happened?!" Pietro was starting to freak out a bit.

Did somebody wipe his memory? His sister was probably capable of doing that, but she'd made it clear she wasn't _ever_ going to do that. Also, he was positive she hadn't been the one to wipe his memory because the stuff he didn't want to remember was still there, perfectly intact.

"Pietro, calm down. Take a deep breath for me and I'll explain." Said Wanda calmly scooching closer to him.

Pietro took a deep breath in and let it out, which did make him feel a little better, but that was probably more to do with Wanda's calm reassurance then the actual exercise of breathing.

"Better?" asked Wanda.

Pietro nodded.

"Good. You don't need to strain yourself trying to remember what happened. I'll tell you."

Wanda took a deep breath of her own, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and smiled at her brother "You did something incredibly brave. Don't get me wrong, it was incredibly reckless because you put your life in danger, but yea it was really brave and selfless."

"Hmm that doesn't sound like me at all, well I mean the reckless part does, but not the brave and selfless part." Said Pietro giving his sister a sheepish smile causing his sister to laugh, but tears formed in her eyes once again.

Pietro wasn't sure if the tears were one of laughter or sadness, but Wanda wiped them away before he could decide.

"God I'm so glad you're okay." Said Wanda giving Pietro a hug again "And don't say that Peter, you are the bravest, most selfless person I know. Yes, you are more reckless than I'd like you to be, but I can't really talk since I am too…"

Wanda looked down at her hands then back up at Pietro before continuing. "Anyway, I don't know all the details because I didn't see, but there was this man, some other super powered person, or inhuman, or maybe just an Olympian, but he somehow got a hold of the jet Cap and Bucky were in, and you—brave stupidly selfless person that you are—got it into your head that it was your job to get him off of it, so you grabbed him, but you must've not been able to get enough traction or something, I don't know, but by the time you _were_ able to get him off, the jet was high in the air and you both fell…at least 30 feet. The man _of course_ was fine, but you—you hit concrete hard."

_Huh._

So _that's_ why his head hurt.

Wanda voice broke a little as she finished, but she pushed on, "I tried to stop your fall with my powers, but I couldn't do it. You hit your head and got a severe concussion. That's why you can't remember it. And it's all my fault. You could've _died_ Pietro, and I wasn't able to save you."

Wanda buried her face in her hands.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Said Pietro "You're right, I was being my reckless self. It was my fault, not yours. I—"

"No Pietro!" said Wanda lowering her hands to look at him. "It is in no way your fault."

" _Wanda_ —" Pietro tried to talk to his sister again, but she wasn't having it.

"No. Listen Pete. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. I might not be able to convince you that it was my fault, but it was. And I know you don't like it, but it will always be my job to protect you, and you can hate me for that, but that's just how it's going to be because you're my little brother. It makes no difference that I'm only 12 minutes older, whether I was 12 years older or 12 seconds older, you'd still be my little brother. Whether you like it or not, I'm always going to want to protect you because I can't bear to lose you. I can't."

Wanda finished and gripped Pietro's uninjured wrist tightly with one hand. Wanda was right…about some things. He didn't like that she thought she had to protect him. But she was wrong in that he could _ever_ hate her for it.

"Wanda, I don't hate you. I could _never_ hate you. And you're right. I don't like that you think it's your job to protect me, especially since it's turning out to be a pretty difficult job, but I get it because I couldn't bear to lose you either, so I guess I'm just going have to accept that my _twin_ sister is always going to be there to beat up anybody who messes with me…no promises that I'm going to be any less reckless though, or that I won't beat up anyone who messes with you either. Deal?" Said Pietro giving Wanda a wink.

"Deal." Said Wanda as she smiled and hugged him again, and for a moment, all felt right in the world again.

"That's a lot of hugs in a short amount of time, Wands. I think Aunt Marya and Mom are influencing you from beyond." Pietro joked. It still hurt to think about Marya's and Mom's deaths. Mom's he has had years to come to terms with, but Marya's death was recent and it was murder and he didn't know if he'd ever get past it. But he had to able to talk about her. He wouldn't just forget she existed.

"Maybe they are." Said Wanda quietly, her smile a little sadder now.

The twins sat in silence for a moment thinking about the women who had raised them before Pietro spoke, "So you still haven't said where we are or how we got here…"

"Oh right. Sorry, I guess I got a little sidetracked. Well, shortly after you fell, Erik showed up and I guess someone had hooked him up with a ride via a lady known as Agent May, and anyway, she took us all to a secret base of the organization she works for called S.H.I.E.L.D. that apparently fights evil, and they had a doctor, that made sure you were going to be okay. And—"

"Da—Erik is here!" said Pietro getting up off of the bed a little too quickly as the room spun, but only for a moment.

"Yes. I'm sure he'll want to know you're up, so we can go see him if you're feeling up to it. He's probably just down the hall resting, or at least he's _supposed_ to be resting." Said Wanda getting to her feet too. "And the Avenger's Wanda is here too. We've been rotating shifts, so that someone was always with you while you slept. Except when we had to wake you up every 2 hours per the doctor's orders, you've been asleep for over 14 hours."

" _14_ hours! Whew. And yea I want to see him! Let's go!" said Pietro about to head to the door, but then he noticed something that he hadn't really paid attention to until then because he'd been so wrapped up and what finding out what had happened. That is, the fact that he was only wearing his boxers and a thin hospital gown.

"Um Wanda." Said Pietro as a blush appeared on his pale face. "If I just hit my head, why am I not wearing any pants?"

"Because the doctor had to make sure there wasn't any swelling or bleeding around your brain, Pietro, which required you to undergo a brain scan, meaning you couldn't wear any metal. Hence, the hospital gown." said Wanda gesturing at Pietro's clothing or lack thereof looking like she was trying not to laugh.

"Okay yea that makes sense, but who, ya know, swapped my attire?" asked Pietro knowing he was going to be embarrassed no matter what the answer was.

"Relax Pietro. It wasn't the other Wanda or me or even the doctor. It was just Erik." Replied Wanda nonchalantly.

Pietro put one hand over his eyes. "Ugh, please do me a favor and just kill me now, so I don't die of embarrassment later. I don't think I can live with the embarrassment of being a 15-year-old that had to have his Dad help him get dressed."

"Pete, it's really not a big deal, and don't even joke about that okay? It's not funny. You already did almost die." Said Wanda with a frown.

"Look, if it embarrasses you that much just try not to think about it, and here" said Wanda walking over to grab a neatly folded bundle of his clothes that had escaped his view, which included his silver jacket, shoes, and trusty ankle brace, since, yea he was supposed to be recovering from _that_ injury too. "maybe you'll feel better once you're dressed again. They even cleaned everything, so you'll smell good for a change." Wanda added using humor to try to make him feel more at ease. "And don't worry, I'll leave the room while you get dressed because you really shouldn't be going into hyper speed to quick change. Okay?"

Wanda handed him his belongings as Pietro replied, "Yea, okay. I guess."

Once Wanda left, Pietro put on his clothes at a normal pace, he was still feeling a little under the weather. But once he had his own clothes back, he actually did feel a lot better. Pietro smiled as he tied the laces on his converses.

_Hello old friends._

* * *

AVENGER'S WANDA POV

Wanda stood outside of the room where Erik was supposed to be resting. Key words: _supposed to_. Even though they had been alternating who was watching Pietro, she was pretty sure nobody had been getting that much sleep while it was their turn off. How could they when Pietro was still recovering?

Calling on her courage Wanda knocked on the door. She needed to get this over with because she wasn't going to change her mind. A moment later the door flew upon to reveal a disheveled Erik.

Based on Erik's unkempt state, Wanda figured he must have been showering when he heard the knock on the door. He had shaved, but the hair on his head was wet and sticking up and his shirt was only part way on. Erik pulled it down quickly, but not before Wanda saw scars that were old and faded.

"What is it? What's happened? Is it Pietro?" asked Erik immediately looking past Wanda into the hallway. Wanda wasn't really sure what he expected to see.

"Nothing's happened." Wanda quickly assured him. "Pietro is fine, still sleeping the last time I checked. Your daughter is with him."

Erik instantly relaxed, and _some_ of the tension left his face.

"I brought you some coffee. I thought you might want some caffeine." Wanda continued, holding out a thermos, which after a moment's hesitation, Erik took from her.

"Thank you." Said Erik cautiously. "Is that all?"

"No." said Wanda taking a deep breath. "I was hoping we could talk."

Erik gave her an appraising look and Wanda tried not to wilt under his gaze.

"Alright." He said after what seemed like an eternity, stepping aside to allow her to enter the room.

"What is this about?" asked Erik after he closed the door behind her and took a drink of the coffee she had given him. Wanda took that as a good sign, but she was still not looking forward to this conversation.

"I want to tell Wanda and Pietro who I really am." Said Wanda as quickly but distinctively as she could.

Maybe Wanda should have eased into the reason she'd come to speak with Erik, but she thought it was better just to come out with it and get it over with.

Erik's gaze hardened again. "Wanda, I appreciate you looking out for my children, but I thought I already made it clear that telling them who you are will only bring them pain they do not need. They have each other. You are not their sister." said Erik coolly.

Wanda looked away for a moment to steel herself before she addressed Erik again. "You did make that clear, and I know I'm not their sister. I know that they have each other, and I know I'm being selfish to ask you to allow me to do this. And you're right that it will probably bring them pain. But if there's any chance that my telling them will make them realize even a little bit more that they need to look out for each other, then I think it's worth it."

Erik stared at her with his calculating gaze. "I think it's pretty clear to them that they should look out for one another. Do you really think they need to be reminded of that? And what happens after you tell them? Every time they see you, they will only be reminded of _pain_ and _loss_. They don't need any more of that."

Wanda reminded herself that she wasn't going to back down before continuing. "I know they do, but again, I just…I feel like it doesn't hurt to be reminded that they will always have each other, if they develop their abilities and don't go throwing themselves into danger every chance they get…" Wanda sighed. "And you don't have to worry about me reminding them of pain, because once we leave here, you won't see me again. I'm turning myself in."

"What?!" Clearly Erik wasn't expecting that, her response momentarily distracted him from what she was asking. "Why would you do that? You've done nothing wrong. You fought for your friends and your people. You're not the one who is at fault. The ones who try to _control_ you and everyone like you are the ones who are at fault."

There was venom in Erik's voice now that hadn't been there even when he was disagreeing with Wanda, and it made her realize how glad she was that for the big issues, they were on the same side.

"You might be right." Said Wanda giving a small resigned shrug. "But I've made my decision. The others who helped Steve are most likely already under lock and key, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I walked free and they alone faced the punishment for _all_ of our actions. I've already talked to Agent May, and she's agreed to drop you off at the farm where you entered this world. I think that there you'll have the best chance with your daughter and me working together to get you back to your home universe. And then after you're gone May will deliver me to the custody of the U.S. government. But please, before that happens, I would really like to tell them the truth….to say goodbye…To let them go."

* * *

 

PIETRO POV

"So where's D—Erik?" asked Pietro trying not to sound too eager. He didn't want Wanda to think that he wasn't just as happy to see her as he was to see their Dad.

"He's just down this way, and you can call him Dad in front of me, Peter. I don't care. He is turning out to be a better father than I expected…I just don't know that I'll ever be at a place where I can automatically call him Dad, instead of Erik. I guess it's hard for me to forget that he hasn't always been a father to us."

Pietro wasn't sure what to say to that because she wasn't wrong, but he was saved from responding when Erik and the other Wanda emerged from a room farther down the hall.

When Pietro saw Erik, he immediately forgot about his earlier embarrassment and controlling his excitement. Bursting into a grin, Pietro zipped over to his father, which really wasn't the best idea considering he was recovering from a head injury and also, he was pretty hungry, which he'd sorta forgotten to mention to his sister. So instead of giving his Dad an impulsive but _totally_ manly and dignified hug, he less than gracefully fell into his father's arms.

_Whoa. Head rush._

Fortunately, despite probably being surprised by Pietro's sudden wakefulness, Erik caught the boy, steadying him with strong hands.

"Hey Dad! How's it going? Long time no see! Well I guess it really wasn't that long. I mean, you weren't gone for months or years or anything. Well, you were gone up until Wands and I were 15, but you didn't even know about us, so that wasn't your fault. Shit, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. And I guess you've been back for hours and hours now, since I've been sleeping. Wanda filled me in on the whole concussion debacle. Did we get you in trouble? You know, since Wanda and I basically helped the guy you were supposed to capture escape. But don't worry, if they somehow manage to lock you up, I'll just break out again. Maybe that can be our thing. A father-son past time. It _was_ really fu—"

Pietro was silenced as his father pulled him into a hug.

It was nice.

Pietro still felt kinda embarrassed whenever he hugged Erik, or at least, he felt like he _should_ feel embarrassed. 15 year olds didn't just go around casually hugging their fathers, and—believe it or not—Erik didn't exactly seem like the hugging type of guy, so it probably embarrassed him whenever Pietro gave him a hug….But this time _his Dad_ had been the one to hug him, since Pietro had epically failed in his attempt, so he couldn't be _that_ embarrassed about it. Also, Pietro thought he probably had a few thousand fatherly hugs saved up on account of Erik being off Nazi hunting/in prison for the duration of his childhood, regardless of if he knew of Pietro and Wanda's existence or not.

After a bit, Erik released Pietro from the hug and held the boy out in front of him, looking him over as if to make sure he hadn't sprouted any extra limbs or something. Then he smiled down at his son. "Pietro, do not worry about me. No one is taking me away from you. How are you feeling? Did you wake up on your own?" asked Erik, his smile fading back into a look of concern.

Pietro squirmed a little bit. His father's hands were still resting on his shoulders, and he was a little nervous to answer because he was pretty sure he was about to be told that he had to rest again, which was _sooooo_ unbelievably boring _…_

"Oh that's good. Not that I was worried, like I know you can take care of yourself. And I'm right as rain! By the way, why do people say that? Rain doesn't fall at a 90-degree angle, like ever. I guess, maybe if it's super windy it might look that way, but it's still a weird saying, don't you think? Okay, so I may have gotten just a teensy bit dizzy when I ran over to you, but other than that I'm good. Oh and I did wake up all by myself! Pretty talented of me right?! Hahaha." Pietro finished with his signature grin, before taking probably what was an unnecessary breath and looking at the Avenger by Erik's side.

"Oh and hi other Wanda! Sorry, did I say 'other' out loud? I keep referring to you as the 'other Wanda' in my head. We really need to work out a better system. Having two Wandas is confusing. It was _way_ easier when your name was Wilma, but I guess that wasn't ever really your name. Maybe Wands should change her name because you were born first. Hey sis, how do you feel about that? Got any ideas, because I think I could think of some great—"

"Pietro." Said Erik turning the boy's face back to look at him, his own face serious. "I am relieved that you are feeling batter, but it is important that we get some things straight."

_Uh oh. That sounds rather ominous. Is he going to ground me for being reckless? He definitely is. Bummer. On second thought, this is kinda exciting! I've never been grounded by my dad before!_

Once he was sure he had Pietro's attention, Erik continued. "You had a very serious concussion _and_ you are still recovering from your previous injuries. Therefore, per doctor's orders, you are not to watch too much TV,"

"But—"

"play video games,"

"But—"

"read excessively,"

"But—"

"and finally, no strenuous physical activity, which means _absolutely_ no running until I say so, at high speeds or otherwise."

"But I love all of those things!" said Pietro with a pout, finally managing to get a word in, which he was usually pretty good at. "Even reading is okay if it's interesting enough!"

"Pietro. This is not up for debate." said Erik again warningly, reminding Pietro of Steve momentarily, which was kinda a weird comparison, since they were pretty different. Well actually, the two men did have quite a bit in common, both having fought Nazis and being a symbol of hope for a select group of people…or mutants.

Erik looked like he wanted to say more, and for a second, Pietro thought he saw him glance down at his arm. But his eyes must've just been wandering because Erik didn't know what he'd done to himself, and Pietro still wasn't at 100%, so his ability to judge what was a normal amount of time to look any which way wasn't the best at the moment. Yea, Erik couldn't know. Wanda had promised not to tell…well one Wanda had. Now that he thought about it, he didn't actually remember his sister promising not to tell their dad.

_Shit. Does he know?_

Pietro sighed and decided he would err on the side of Erik not knowing because he wasn't about to bring it up anyway. "You know, with all these restrictions on what I'm allowed to do, this means you all will have to entertain me. My brain might've gotten knocked around a bit, butitstillworksjustasfast."

Erik smiled at his son again, "I think together we can manage that."

Pietro grinned back up at Erik. Part of him was still extremely baffled—and probably always would be—as to why Erik not only seemed happy to have Pietro as his son, but also didn't mind spending time with him. Most people tended to find Pietro pretty annoying, not to mention exhausting.

"You shaved" commented Pietro, his ever moving mind switching to a different subject. "I liked your beard. It made you look more like a regular guy/Dad, and not so much like a dude who can crush you like a tin can…with a tin can…I should probably shave soon too. I've been asleep for _ages_ , so I bet my 5 o'clock shadow is _terrible_ at this point." Pietro ran one hand over his non-existent stubble, ignoring his sister's eye roll, even though sadly she was totally right that he was not even close to even needing to own a razor.

_Maybe Erik will teach me how to shave. That's something dads did with their sons, right?_

Erik chuckled, "I don't think you need to worry about that just yet, Pietro."

Pietro's stomach gave a rumble and Erik's face faded from its smile to a look of concern again.

"You're hungry. I should have thought of that right away. We tried to get you to eat each time we woke you, but evidently you did not eat enough. Why didn't you say something right away?" asked Erik.

"Oh well, I'm almost always hungry, so sometimes I just ignore it. It's not like I'm starving _this_ time." Said Pietro shrugging as if starving was something that he should expect to happen to him again.

Erik frowned reaching into his back pocket and handing Pietro a protein bar.

Pietro grinned.

_Ha! What a dad thing to have on hand. Erik is such a dad now!_

"Here, eat this and I'll go get you something more substantial. And Pietro, never ignore your hunger. If you're hungry and don't have access to food, you tell me, you tell your sister, you tell someone. Your mutation should bring you joy, not suffering. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Said Pietro a little self-consciously. "and I'll come with you to get food and the Wandas too. I want to explore!"

Erik ruffled his son's hair gently, "I think I prefer Dad or even Erik to sir. I'm your father, not your commander, Pietro. And you can explore in a bit, but for now stay here. Wanda has something she wants to talk to you about…both of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty dialogue heavy chapter, but there's action ahead if you can hang in there. Just FYI, I'm pretty sure I'm going to split this story into a two part series because this is getting surprisingly long, and there's sort of a natural separation point coming up. I'll make sure it's properly linked to this story and marked as Part II though when it gets to that point. Anywho, I'd love to hear your thoughts about the story or anything really. Is anyone going to watch Legion? It looks like it could be interesting. I'm more excited for the movie Logan though. At the very least, the first trailer has me listening to a lot more Johnny Cash songs than I knew were out there. Sorry for the tangent. Thanks for reading!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is rather short compared to usual, but it just didn't really feel right to break up the story any other way. I hope it's still enjoyable. The next chapter will be quite a bit more intense than this one, so that's something to look forward to…or not depending on what fits your fancy. As usual, please feel free to comment. I love reading people's thoughts, whatever they might be. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to do so thus far, and thanks to those who have left kudos and subscribed to this story as well!

 

**X-MEN WANDA POV**

After Erik left to go find something to quell Pietro's hunger, the three youngsters retreated back into the room where Pietro had been recovering in order to talk, though what about, Wanda had no idea. But it didn't seem to be anything good based on the grave look on the elder Wanda's face.

Pietro, on the other hand, seemed wonderfully oblivious. He was still just happy that they were all together, no one was currently trying to capture or torture him, and their father was going to get him food, hopefully something with calories galore. It was the happiest she'd seen him in a while, and it was going to break Wanda's heart to see her brother lose that joy—even if only momentarily—but Wanda knew the older girl wouldn't ruin Pietro's mood without good reason, so she was anxious to find out what that reason might be.

Pietro hopped up to sit cross-legged on the bed as the girls pulled up chairs.

"Pete, Erik literally just got done telling you not to over exert yourself." Said Wanda, "and the first thing you do is jump on the bed."

"That was _hardly_ a jump," Pietro started to argue but he quickly changed his mind after his sister gave him a disapproving look. "Sorry Wands. My bad. Won't happen again…so what did you want to talk about Wanda?" asked Pietro directing his attention away from his sister to the other girl.

The older girl sighed, "I've already talked to your father about all of this, but please don't blame him for keeping it from you. It wasn't his story to tell and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to share it before, but now I think it's important that I do."

The younger Wanda and Pietro exchanged a glance before giving the older girl rather perplexed looks as they waited for her to continue.

"You already know my name is Wanda, not Wilma. I didn't tell you before because..." the older Wanda took a deep breath and looked them both in the eye. "because my full name is Wanda Maximoff, and I had a twin brother named Pietro Maximoff."

The older girl's words swirled through Wanda's mind, as she watched her brother's eyes go wide and he began to throw question after question at the Avenger.

"Wait. So you're like my sister from the future? No that doesn't make sense, we're from a different universe, not just a different time. _Does_ it make sense? Are _you_ a clone? Are Wanda and I clones? Are we all clones? I guess you look a little bit alike but not like clone-level alike. If you're a clone, does that make you our sister? OhmyGod! IsErikyourdadtoo!? How—"

Wanda cut her brother off, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. Wanda knew she should have just as many questions as Pietro, and maybe they would come later, but there was only one question that she needed to ask right then. The most important part of what the other Wanda Maximoff had told them.

"You said you _had_ a twin brother named Pietro. What do you mean by _had_?"

Next to her, Pietro went even paler than his natural skin color, as a single tear ran down the other Wanda's face. The older girl's hand shook as she wiped the tear away, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. "He died…he's been gone for over a year now…sometimes it feels like he was just here yesterday…and other days, it feels like he's been gone forever."

The Avenger looked away as the words hit the younger Wanda like a ton of bricks. Even though the rational part of her mind was coming to the conclusion that this universe contained some version of herself and _had_ contained some version of her brother, that didn't mean their lives would follow the same path, but the irrational part of her mind tensed with fear for her own twin, and her hand tightened on her brother's arm.

Wanda knew even if they shared a name and powers that they were _not_ the same person, and they did not share the same lives or history. They weren't even from the same country. What happened to the Pietro Maximoff of this world would not happen to her brother. Their lives couldn't be so insignificant that they would revolve around the happenings of another universe.

And _she_ would die before anything happened to _her_ Pietro. But Wanda couldn't dispel all of her fear. Part of her couldn't rid her mind of the thought that some events might be destined to come to pass. If there were already so many similarities between herself and the Wanda Maximoff of this universe, did that mean that her brother's fate was already set in stone?

Still trapped in the fears created by her own imagination, Pietro asked what Wanda's mind had not yet thought to.

"How…how did he die?" Pietro asked quietly.

"He died protecting others. He was better at hiding it than you, but just like you, he had a big heart." Answered the other Wanda with a sad smile.

"Didhehavepowerslikeminetoo?" asked Pietro quickly. He was curious now. And why wouldn't he be? There had existed someone that could have possibly kept up with him, in a way that even Wanda, as his twin, could not.

"He did…he just…he wasn't as fast as you. He wasn't born with his powers. Neither of us were. We foolishly volunteered to be experimented on in the hope to gain power to help our home country, but in the end, it didn't even matter because I wasn't able to save the most important person in my life…even with my powers."

Wanda felt her brother shiver or perhaps to be more accurate vibrate next to her.

"Does this mean I'm gonna die too?" Pietro asked in a small voice. "ImeanobviouslyI''mgonnadie, everybodydies, but—"

At the sound of her brother's poorly hidden distress Wanda found her voice, "You're not going to die, Peter, not until we are _both_ ancient and have gotten a chance to be grumpy old people. We are each our own person, and _our_ world is completely different from this one. The two are not meant to interact. What happened or happens here doesn't personally affect us." Wanda said, moving to sit by her brother on the bed, where she then put an arm around him, who relaxed slightly under her familiar touch.

Wanda tried not to glare at the older girl. She knew it wasn't her fault for being who she was, but Wanda really wished she had someone to blame for Pietro's fear…and her own.

"Your sister is right, Pie—Peter. Your lives are completely your own. I—I only wanted to tell you who I truly am and about my brother, because I want you two to realize how important it is for you to always look out for each other. I know you know that already…and I know you already do look out for one another, but it doesn't hurt to be reminded. And I really need you to understand how much of a difference you can make in each other's lives, and…and I didn't want to say goodbye without telling you the truth." Said the other Wanda with an air of conviction.

"Goodbye?" asked Pietro in surprise. "I mean, I know we're going to try to go back to our own world, but not like right this _second._ And we're not going to quit hanging out with you just because we're like basically related. Wands and Erik spend time with each other, even though they're not like the best of friends."

As much as he was trying to keep his voice lighthearted, Wanda could hear the sadness creeping into it. She knew he wanted to go home. They both did, but that didn't mean they wouldn't miss the people that they left behind. But Wanda hated goodbyes. Hated them with a passion because they hurt too much. That's why she'd left home without saying goodbye to Aunt Marya, or Mila…or her own twin.

The other Wanda gave him a small smile, and suddenly the girl seemed a lot older than Wanda herself was.

"I know you're not." Said the older girl, "But you will be soon, and I didn't want to miss my chance to tell you. After another night's rest, we're getting a lift to the farm you were living on when you first came here, and then I'm going to help your sister send you all back home where you belong."

A number of emotions flickered across her brother's face: excitement and hope at the prospect of going home, but also that profound sadness was there again. It pained Wanda to realize that that sadness was probably always there within her brother, at times well hidden, but always there nonetheless.

And though she already knew what the answer would be, Wanda had to ask. She had to ask because even though this whole situation was weird and unsettling, anything that would possibly make her brother happy, made her happy too.

"You could come with us." Said the younger Wanda and next to her Pietro immediately perked up.

"Yea! You should come!" said Pietro excitedly. "Wands can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but she's also a really great sister, and you're really great too and you could be our older, wiser sister and teach us stuff and then Wands wouldn't be able to say she's the oldest Maximoff anymore and—"

The other Wanda held up her hand cutting him off. "I can't come with you Peter. As much as I'm going to miss you, both of you, I belong here, and you belong there. This world needs me, and that one needs both of you. And even though my blood relatives of this world are gone, I still have a family here. And I can't abandon them."

All three were silent after Wanda finished speaking. Because what was there to say? She was right. Even if the other Wanda didn't have people who needed her in this world. _They_ were never even supposed to be in this universe in the first place. It was lucky their mere presence here hadn't destroyed all of time and space, and if the other Wanda went back with them, that might just push the cosmos over the edge.

Finally, the other Wanda spoke again. "Would you mind…could I share the memory of my brother with you both? It's stupid, I know, but the fact that you're from another universe gives me hope that there is some universe or someplace out there where _my_ brother is still alive or—or existing somehow and even if he's not, then if even one more person knows who he was, then he's not completely gone and…"

Wanda trailed off, as few tears ran down her cheek once more. She quickly wiped them away.

"Yea, yea, of course, Wanda. Of course you can show us." Said Pietro eager to make the older girl's pain go away. For one so accustomed to pain, it wasn't surprising that her brother hated to see others bear it.

Her brother was so kind. Unlike herself. Because though he answered for both of them, Wanda actually didn't want to see the memory of this other Pietro. She didn't want to see the face of a dead boy, and know that it could have just as easily been her brother who had died, who still could die because every world seemed to be filled with people who tried to tear him from her. But how could Wanda say no? How could she refuse the simple request of possibly the one person who could understand what it was like to care so much about someone and be so connected to them that their pain was your own?

So Wanda didn't say anything. She just nodded, and leaned forward a little to let the other girl's now power-charged hands touch her and her brother's temples.

A moment later, Wanda was no longer in the white room. Instead, she was standing outside under a canopy of some ancient building. Pillars and remains of what looked to be the bodies of robots lay all around her. Suddenly a boy—a man really, she knew he had to be the other Pietro, but he looked older than even the other Wanda—appeared in front of her, lines of blue and silver lay out behind him in a trail before quickly fading away. He had a thin but dark beard. The roots of his hair matched its coloring, but the rest of his hair was white. It looked like it had been dyed that way, but since the young man could only be the Pietro of this universe, she figured it was probably natural.

"Get the people on the boats." She heard herself say in the other girls Sokovian accent without even thinking about it. It seemed she was not just observing, but taking the other Wanda's role in the girl's memory.

"I'm not going to leave you." The young man responded without hesitating.

"I can handle these." Wanda heard herself say again as a robot rushed at her and she automatically flung out her hands, stopping it in its tracks and breaking it apart with her powers. "Come back for me when everyone else is off, not before." She continued lowering her hands as the young man moved around her at a normal pace.

"You understand?" said Wanda harshly, again unable to control the words out of her mouth, as she tracked the other Pietro's movement.

At Wanda's last words, the young man turned toward her, a smirk on his face that suddenly reminded her so much of her own Pietro that she wanted to look away, but of course she couldn't. This memory was not hers to control. And the other Wanda hadn't looked away, so neither could she.

"You know, I'm 12 minutes older than you." Said the other Pietro, the grin still present on his face and despite the fact that they were obviously in a tense situation, humor laced his voice.

_So he was the older twin._

Wanda suddenly felt a strange kinship for this boy/man she would never know because he obviously felt that it was his job to protect his sister, just as she protected her brother.

Then Wanda felt herself smile and answer with a hint of a laugh in her voice, "Go."

Then the speedster was gone, and with him, the memory, and so Wanda found herself once more back in the pristinely white room with her living, breathing brother and the other Wanda who had lost so much.

"That was the last time I saw him alive. Our last conversation was just me bossing him around." Said the elder Wanda bitterly.

Pietro shook his head out a little bit next to her. Wanda figured her powers made it easier to adjust to being taken in and out of a memory than it did for him.

"Hey," said Wanda gently, suddenly feeling the need to comfort the other girl. Now that she had seen the memory of the lost Pietro, she was happy that she had. It was easier now to separate this Universe's Pietro from _her_ Pietro. At least physically, her Pietro was almost nothing like the Pietro who had died.

The other Pietro had been older, taller, and much more muscular than her brother could ever hope to be, and he at least seemed much more sure of himself. Though the bit of her brother that she had seen in the mischievous smile and the glint in the young man's eyes made her want to help this other version of herself understand something. "That's not what I saw. I saw two siblings who cared more about each other than anyone else in the world."

The other Wanda looked up hopefully, appearing younger again. "Really?"

"Yes." Repeated Wanda and Pietro—who had recovered from the memory's affects—together.

The older girl stood up and wiped her eyes, before heading over toward the door and holding it open. "We should go help your father get that food."

The twins rose and followed her. When they reached her, Pietro gave her an awkward but sincere hug. "I'm sorry about your brother. I don't know what I'd do if I lost my sister." said Pietro and a moment of rare seriousness.

Wanda just patted him on the back, startled but touched by the boy's words. "Thank you, Peter."

Pietro let her go and walked out the door to wait in the hall.

"I'm sorry too." Said Wanda because she didn't know what else to say, and sorry seemed to work for Pietro, but Wanda knew they were just words. They wouldn't bring the other girl's brother back.

"Don't be sorry…" Said the older girl looking intently at Wanda. "Just don't let this world, or another, take your brother from you."

"I won't." Wanda answered without hesitating. No one was ever going to take her brother from her again, not while she was around.

And with that, the two girls left the room to join the boy that bound them together.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm not dead, in case you were worried, just busy and stressed, which makes writing difficult, but fortunately, some of the stress has passed, so I was able to write! Thanks so much for your patience.

**ERIK POV**

They didn't remain at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base for long. Just one more night and through the day, so Dr. Simmons could check on Pietro again, and Erik would feel better about the boy's ability to travel. Then when night fell again, Agent May took Erik, both Wandas, and Pietro back out into the wide open world under the cover of darkness in the same jet that had delivered them to their temporary place of safety.

Before their departure, Erik thanked the young doctor for her help and even gave a civilized goodbye to the twitchy young man who was clearly in love with Dr. Simmons. The children said their somewhat reluctant goodbyes as well. Though at times Erik could tell neither the older Wanda nor Pietro very much liked the structure of the base—hidden away beneath the earth as it was—it was clear that even in such a short amount of time, they had become attached to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Pietro had loved messing around with all of the weird little gadgets he could get his hands on. And despite Fitz's fascination with the boy's powers and his willingness to explain how some of the less dangerous items operated, Erik could tell his son had been giving the young engineer a bit of a headache in making sure Pietro didn't break anything. To which Erik could only say: welcome to parenting…or at least parenting Pietro.

The plane ride was bittersweet. The kids were obviously hopeful about the prospect of returning home though apparently Erik was rubbing off on them because it was clear that they were trying to keep that hope hidden, probably for the elder Wanda's sake who seemed to be doing her best to appear outwardly happy for all of them, even when Erik could tell she was going to miss his kids. Erik might even miss her a bit, but he would be glad to be done with this world and its troubles. He was ready to return his children to lives that held some semblance of normalcy. He only hoped that together his daughter and the Avenger would be able to connect them to their own universe.

Erik could hear the fear in his daughter's voice as she asked the elder Wanda how exactly they were going to use their powers to get home since Wanda didn't really know how she'd brought them here in the first place, but the other Wanda had steered the conversation to its end, saying there was no use discussing it. The only way they'd be able to figure it out was by doing, which they should definitely not try until they got back to the farm. No one wanted to find out what might happen if they attempted interdimensional travel while speeding through the air.

So they had all dropped the subject for now, and the kids moved on to discuss more lighthearted topics. Telling the older girl about their 'sister' Mila, and all the stuff they couldn't wait to tell her. He was glad they were handling the revelation of Wanda's true identity well enough.

He had talked to the elder Wanda after she had unveiled her identity to the teens, and discovered that while she had told them about herself and her twin, she had not told them she would be turning herself in once they were gone. Erik was glad she had decided not to, for he knew his children would not have been okay with it.

Erik sat up front next to Agent May, listening to the youngsters in the back prattle away as he watched rain batter the windshield. Agent May was clearly a highly experienced pilot, but it had started to rain rather suddenly and with it, the sky had darkened making for less than ideal flying conditions. Normally, Erik wouldn't be bothered, but with the precious cargo on board, every creak of metal and hammering of wind made him cringe internally.

"Can the jet withstand this kind of weather?" asked Erik finally, "Perhaps we should find somewhere to land."

"There is no place _to_ land. We're in the middle of the ocean. The storm came out of nowhere. All we can do is battle through it." May replied curtly through gritted teeth.

May's words were not exactly comforting. Again, if it were just him, he wouldn't be so worried, but with Wanda and Pietro and even the other Wanda along, Erik didn't want to take any chances. But there seemed there was no choice but to continue in their flight.

Behind them, Erik heard someone unbuckle and approach the front of the aircraft. Erik turned to see the older Wanda approach. The twins were still buckled in their seats talking quietly.

"The weather is becoming a problem, isn't it?" asked Wanda.

"Better the weather than someone following us." Said May. "And I can handle it."

Erik didn't know if he agreed with Agent May. After all, he could always take down another jet, assuming it was made of metal.

"You should go sit back down. I don't want the kids to worry…" Erik trailed off, looking straight out into the night through the front window. He could feel something…something big…something metal…but that didn't make sense. They weren't following any well traversed span of ocean, as they were trying to avoid detection. There shouldn't be any ships out here…so what was?

"What is it?" asked Wanda clearly noticing the way Erik's face was set in concentration.

"I'm…not sure. There's something in the water ahead." They were already flying pretty low as May thought visibility might be better at a lower altitude as attempting to fly over the storm had turned out to be an impossibility.

May, Wanda, and Erik all peered forward blindly through the front windshield into the seemingly endless blackness of the storm. Then, a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky, revealing a giant circular metal raft of some sort in the ocean below: the source of the metal pulling at Erik's senses. Water was pouring from openings all around the sides of the craft, and a ring of lights lit up the top of the structure. The sky went dark again for a moment, momentarily hiding the monstrosity below from sight, until another flash of lightning tore through the sky and with it Erik noticed another jet circling the structure below that he had failed to sense because of the overwhelming size of the metal craft.

"Well that's something you don't see every day." Said Agent May staring out at the fortress ahead. Then she squinted her eyes as lightning lit up the sky again. "I recognize that jet. That's the jet Captain Rogers took off in."

Wanda eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"I know my aircrafts." Answered May.

"If Steve is down there, I need to help him. After we left the airport, the government surely would have arrested everyone who helped him, this very well could be where they are keeping them. I had heard rumors that such a prison existed. It makes sense that people as powerful as Captain America's allies would be there." Stated Wanda decisively. "If Steve is planning on breaking his friends out, then I have to help. And if he's planning on turning himself in, then I'll do that too. Either way, I need to get down there."

Erik narrowed his eyes as they grew closer to the…whatever it was. "You don't know he's down there. Whoever is piloting the aircraft might not even be the Captain's ally, and Agent May might be mistaken." At that, Agent May shot him a death glare, as if she found it offensive to suggest that she would ever be wrong. Erik ignored her and continued. "He may not even be there at all, nor your friends, Wanda. We are not stopping at the mere _possibility_ that they could be there. I'm not endangering the lives of my children."

"You don't have to endanger them, just open the hatch and let me out. I can manage to fly myself down. It's a big enough landing area, I'm not going to miss, even in this weather." Wanda countered.

"That's not happening." Said Erik raising his voice. "There's no need for you to put your own life in danger either!"

"Yo! What's going on up there?" Pietro called from the back of the plane at the sound of his father's voice.

"Nothing!" all three adults responded in unison.

"Maybe I'll just—" the younger Wanda started to say but Erik cut her off.

"Wanda, Pietro, Stay in your seat." Erik said sternly, using his powers to make it impossible for the son or daughter to unbuckle, before turning back to the debate.

"I'm not your daughter, Erik. You don't get to decide what I do. Just let me go. You don't even need to wait for me. I'll leave here with Steve or I won't. Your daughter brought you here on her own, she can get you back home with or without me, even if she doesn't believe she can." said Wanda with an air of finality.

Erik couldn't deny that what she said was true, but he didn't have to like it. And honestly, he hadn't even been thinking about that. He'd only been thinking about everyone being safe right here and now. But now that Wanda had brought it up, he realized that was something else he should be concerned about if Wanda left. He knew his daughter had the power in her to get them back home—obviously she did, she had brought them here—but how was she supposed to do that if she didn't believe herself capable? She needed the elder Wanda to help her, or to at least give her confidence.

_Damn it._

It seemed Erik was going to have to go with Wanda because he could tell by the look in her eyes that even if Agent May did not open the hatch, she would bust it open and jump out without a second thought. Either way, her mind was made up. She'd go with or without Erik. But with Erik, he might be able to bring her back.

"Someone needs to decide something soon, we're approaching." Said Agent May.

Erik focused once again on the young woman before him. "You may be right, but I can't take that risk, and I'm not going to let you take that risk alone either. I'm not going to abandon you here, so if you have to do this I'm coming with you. May, open the hatch. And if something happens, don't wait for us. Stay on course and get my children to safety."

As Erik finished speaking, he was greeted by an unexpected hug from Wanda. "Thank you."

Erik was saved from replying as Pietro's voice sounded from the back of the cabin once more. "Okay! What is going on?!" asked Pietro. "You were definitely just arguing and now hugs are happening! So somethings definitely happening!"

Erik floats his helmet and cape toward him from beside him on the floor of the jet. He hadn't put them on when they had left the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. There had been no need. They weren't supposed to be going into battle or on a mission. The only mission was to get his children home.

After throwing the cape around his shoulders and sliding the metal helmet onto his head, Erik and Wanda walked to the back of the jet, where Erik bent down to kneel in front of his children placing a hand on both of their shoulders.

"Captain Rogers needs our help. We'll be back, but if for some reason we're not, Wanda…" Erik said turning his gaze toward his daughter. "I know you can get you and your brother home. You _can_. Do not doubt yourself. I wish I wasn't always leaving you two, but this is unavoidable. I need to help Wanda. I love you both." Erik finished standing back up again.

"What are you talking about!? If Cap needs help, then he should get _all_ of our help! And where could you possibly be going?! We're in the middle of the ocean! What's out there?! Wanda back me up here!" Pietro turned to his sister.

Beside the boy, his sister's eyes rose to meet their father's gaze, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between them. "We can't Pietro. You're not battle ready, and I don't think I am either…and if this is what Erik thinks he's has to do then let him do it. We survived without him before." Said Wanda. "We can do it again." Her voice was strong and filled with steel, but there was a touch of sadness beneath her words, and Erik hoped one day she could forgive him.

Pietro just stared at his sister, mouth open in exasperation before he started trying to unbuckle his seat belt which Erik made sure was still unreleasable.

"I'm sorry." Said Erik.

"Me too." Added the elder Wanda giving Pietro's shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning away, eyes glistening.

Erik turned to the elder Wanda quickly saying "Hold tight to me. I'll use my powers to get us down there, and you use yours to balance us out if need be."

Wanda nodded and Erik glanced over at his children one last time desperately trying to put Pietro's look of betrayal out of his mind, "Be safe."

Then Erik address Agent May, "open the hatch."

Erik put an arm around the elder Wanda's waist and May responded in kind. The back of the jet opened, letting in wind and a fair amount of rain but Erik gripped Wanda tight and held onto the jet with his powers so they weren't flung off of their feet.

Then together they jumped from the jet into the unforgiving storm outside. The last sound he heard was his son screaming ' _Dad_ ' at the top of his lungs. But Erik made sure to hold his children's seatbelts in place even as he and Wanda descended, until the jet's hatch closed behind them.

* * *

Their landing was far from graceful. Even using both of their powers, with the wind and rain being what it was, their touchdown was more of a fall than a landing. They hit the top of the vessel hard, but somehow managed to land very near the center of the circular vessel. Fortunately for Wanda—less fortunate for him—Erik took the brunt of the impact, as he used his powers to ensure Wanda's contact with the surface wasn't too brutal. Erik would be sore later, but he had managed to tuck and roll at the last moment, saving himself from any broken limbs.

Together the two got to their feet and looked up to find—wouldn't you know it—Captain Rogers running toward them across the wide expanse of the vessel. It seemed Wanda had been correct after all. How the Captain had found this place, however, would have to remain a mystery, because Erik didn't intend to waste time chatting for any longer than necessary.

Erik noticed that Captain Rogers wasn't wearing his signature red, white, and blue uniform, nor did he have his iconic shield with him. He was instead dressed simply in black.

"Steve!" Wanda yelled rushing over to give the man a hug. Erik wasn't sure if she had shouted just to be heard over the roar of the wind and rain or out of sheer joy at seeing her friend/leader alive and well. Perhaps both _._

"Good to see you kid!" Captain Rogers replied returning her hug. "You too, Erik! And thank you, for helping me back in Berlin; I didn't realize what you were doing at the time! How did you manage to get here?"

Erik waved away his thanks. There was no time for niceties and he didn't care for validations of his actions, good or bad. Nor did he wish to take the time to explain their arrival "It doesn't matter. What is it you are looking to accomplish here Captain? Whatever it is I suggest we do it soon, before the task becomes more difficult." said Erik who was, to be honest, surprised that no one had come out of the vessel trying to shoot them yet. Perhaps whatever the purpose of this place, the people who controlled it where confident in its ability to keep people out by its remoteness alone and the seemingly impenetrable _metal_ hull.

"Right." Said Steve immediately becoming serious. "This is a prison. I've come to liberate Sam, Clint, and Scott. I planned to use explosives to break through the exterior, but the surface is looking to be stronger than I anticipated. If you'd be willing to lend a hand, Erik, this might go a whole lot quicker."

It seemed Wanda was right on more than one account. Erik glanced over at her, and saw that she was looking at him hopefully. "Very well." Said Erik as he approached the very center of the vessel that looked to be the point of entry. "I suggest you both prepare yourselves. In my experience, people don't usually let their prisoners walk free without resisting, even if that resistance is futile."

Erik looked at Wanda and Captain Rogers once more to make sure they were ready, and when they nodded. He put aside lingering thoughts of his children as best he could and tore open the fortress beneath them.

* * *

**CLINT POV**

Clint lay on his back with his elbows out and his hands beneath his head, gazing at the barren ceiling above him. Silently he wondered if it had been the right choice to help Steve. His family's absence was like a whole in his side. Clint believed he had been doing the right thing at the time. He still did believe his actions were _right,_ he just didn't know if it was worth it. Not anymore. Not since it now looked like he would probably become merely a memory of a father, rather than an actual father to his children.

Clint was supposed to be enjoying retirement right now. He was supposed to be waking up next to his beautiful wife, remodeling their house, and taking his kids on camping trips…this time, he was supposed to be there for his baby's first steps and first words…

As Clint thought of his little baby boy, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, he couldn't help but think of the other young Pietro who he had last seen being carried, barely conscious into a jet off to who knows where. When he'd pulled Wanda aside, she'd quickly confirmed that the man who had arrived looking like he was headed to a Roman convention was the other Wanda and Pietro's father, so he'd them go, but it hadn't been easy to just watch them be led away. There was something about being a father that made everything involving children that much harder to handle. He'd told Wanda to be careful and the next moment they were gone.

He'd wanted to go with them. He'd been trying to look out for Wanda ever since she'd lost her brother and so far he'd been doing a really poor job of it. He called her every so often, but Clint thought that he might only be reminding her of her brother's death, so he tried not to bother her too much. And he'd only just met the kid, but he already felt like he'd let this other Pietro down too.

He should've known that the boy would throw himself into the fight, instead of staying behind, and then when he had thrown himself into the fray, Clint shouldn't have taken his eyes off of him for even a second because he'd ended up hurt, and though it may not have directly been Clint's fault this time, if he would've stopped the Wakandan Prince before he'd headed to the hanger, then the boy wouldn't have had too. And the kid would've been fine. But instead, Clint had failed…again.

And now he didn't even know…and might never know if this even younger Pietro was okay.

Clint closed his eyes and tried to imagine that he was back at home. The kids were all in bed and Laura was sleeping peacefully by his side. Unfortunately, the day dream didn't last long as it was hard to keep hold of the illusion when Scott was drumming on the wall of his own cell and singing the lyrics to _We Didn't Start the Fire._

"Lang, you're doing it again man." Said Sam from his own cell.

"Oh sorry! Just trying to pass the time. You could both join in, or I could take requests if you've got one!" Scott answered cheerfully.

Scott was a good guy, and certainly not the worst person in the world to be imprisoned with, but he could be a bit… _much_. Thankfully, Sam was good at keeping the guy in check when his antics got out of hand. It was nice to have Scott around to lighten the mood, but Sam understood that sometimes Clint just wanted to brood in silence.

"Not at the moment, Scott. Maybe take five." Sam replied.

"O-K. Got to rest the pipes anyway…" Scott fell silent, and Clint eyes sprang open because Scott might agree to take a break from singing but it usually took him a good minute to quit talking, so something had shocked him into silence.

Clint rose to his feet and looked out the front of his cell just in time to see Steve, Wanda, and wouldn't you know it, Erik—the cape wearing father of Pietro and Wanda of the alternate universe—entering the room. Clint couldn't help the smile that came to his face because _man_ was it good to see them, and the fact that they were altogether and Wanda was smiling at him had to mean Pietro—or Peter as he seemed to prefer—was okay.

They didn't say anything, but Erik made a quick motion with one hand, causing the front of all of their cells to come clean off.

Scott was the quickest to exit his cell and he ran up to the trio.

"Captain America! Wow! Wonderful to see you again! Miss Maximoff! Pleasure as always! And—" Scott turned to Erik "I don't know you, but nice work man! High five!" With this exclamation, Scott held up a hand, which Erik promptly ignored.

"Not a high five guy. That's cool." Said Scott lowering his hand "fist bump? No? okay. Maybe later!"

Clint and Sam exited their cells next. Sam walked up to Steve and gave him a hand shake, and Clint went over to Wanda right away to give her a quick hug. "It's good to see you, kid."

"You too, Clint."

"The other kid, Peter, is he okay?" Clint asked Wanda quietly.

"He's fine. Just a bad concussion but he'll be alright." Said Wanda and Clint felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Is everyone done wasting time with reunions?" asked Erik deadpanned, "We should go. _Now_."

"He's right." Said Steve just as serious but somehow managing a much friendlier tone. "The quicker we get out of here the better."

So the newly liberated prisoners and their rescuers headed toward the exit, where Clint could just see bodies of men—who he _assumed_ were unconscious—littered across the floor.

* * *

**X-MEN WANDA POV**

_Earlier…_

As Erik and her…alternate self, exited the aircraft, Pietro thrashed in his seat beside her trying unsuccessfully to escape from his harness while calling out to their father. But Wanda herself remained still and silent.

Besides the turbulent weather, she didn't know what was going on outside the jet, but she hadn't seen the point in wasting her time arguing with Erik or the other Wanda. They'd made up their mind. Afterall, if Captain American and the other Avengers needed help, then she wanted to help too, but Pietro came first, and there was no way she was willing to leave him alone in order to do that, even if they were. And she was absolutely not going to drag him into another fight.

As soon as the back of the jet closed behind Erik and Wanda, ending the smattering of rain and wind that had been battering the inside of the aircraft, Erik's hold on their seatbelts lifted and Pietro flew out of his seat toward the back of the jet and hammered his fist on it rapidly in frustration.

Wanda cringed at the speed her brother moved. He was supposed to be resting, and he had promised Erik he wouldn't run, but promises could be forgotten when your father flies out the back of an aircraft in the middle of the ocean.

Wanda unbuckled her own seatbelt as quickly as she could, and stood up knowing she would have to try to calm her brother down or he might further exasperate his injuries.

"Piet—" Wanda started to say but he zipped by her up toward the cockpit.

"Open the door!" Pietro said yelling at May who was extremely focused on keeping the aircraft steady amid the unforgiving storm.

"I can't do that. You both need to get back in your seats." Said May calmly, but Wanda thought she heard the tiniest bit of stress layered underneath her words.

"No! Just open it! Or Tell me which button opens it andI'lldoitmyself!" Pietro cried.

"Pietro, calm down." Wanda said as she reached her brother. He seemed oblivious as she put her arms around him to try to calm him down and coax him back to their seats. "Pete, she's not going to do that, and even if she did, I'm not confident enough to fly us anywhere in this weather, and as talented as you are Pete, I hate to break it to you, but you can't fly, so you can't just go jumping out the back of an airplane. Besides, we don't even know where they were headed. And you have to rest, _remember_? You're not supposed to be running anywhere."

Pietro just looked around and ignored her, desperately scanning the jet's display panel as if he might resort to pushing random buttons just to get the back of the jet open, but part of him must have realized that it wouldn't be wise to do because he took his gaze off the panel to look back down at May.

"Please—please just open it!" Pietro voice cracked and his eyes watered as he begged the woman to do as he asked and Wanda felt her own heart twinge with sympathy.

"She can't Pietro. It would be pointless. We are in no position to help them. Please come back and sit down, Pie. _Please._ " Now Wanda was the one who was begging, but she couldn't bear to see her brother in pain, and it was becoming difficult to stand up with the way the jet was being thrown around by the wind.

Tears trailed down her brother's face and he quickly wiped them away, but didn't stop Wanda from leading them back to their seats. He just sat there silently as she strapped him in again and then herself.

"Why did they have to leave us here without even bothering to explain what they were doing this time?! It's not fair! Why is he always leaving!" Pietro said slamming his fists down against the back of his seat in frustration, clearly not expecting Wanda to answer as he buried his face in her shoulder.

Wanda maneuvered herself so she could put an arm around her brother. She had come to see that Erik really did do what he thought was best for them, but that didn't stop her from cursing him in that moment for causing her brother pain. She didn't blame Wanda. Her brother was dead, and throwing herself into danger to help her friends was probably the only thing that kept her going. Wanda knew she certainly wouldn't be able to survive the death of her twin.

Wanda looked up over Pietro's head to where May was sitting in the cockpit. It was hard to tell from a distance but she thought she saw a bead of sweat on the woman's forehead.

Wanda opened her mouth to ask if everything was alright with the jet, when suddenly another flash of lightning lit up the sky, but this time it did more than just light the sky. It struck the aircraft and immediately everything went to hell.

The jet jerked violently and Wanda and Pietro's bodies were flung sideways but thankfully held in place by their harnesses. May cursed loudly as about a dozen warning bells went off.

"May?!" Wanda asked shouting in order to be heard over the mixed noise of the storm and alarms, fear laced her voice and she for once sounded as young as she was. Beside her, her brother looked at his sister then over to Agent May with wide eyes.

May was pulling up frantically on the jet's joystick, but it didn't seem to be cooperating. And a moment later Wanda knew for certain it wasn't. Because for the first time in the short period Wanda had known the woman, May's composure broke. She looked back at the kids and yelled "Brace for impact!"

And then everything went black.

* * *

 

Wanda woke to the feeling of cold water against her feet, soaking into her shoes, socks, and the ankles of her pants. It was dark save for the glowing green back-up emergency lights lining the floor and ceiling.

It took her a moment to orient herself. The jet's alarms were no longer going off, but the water was rising…and rising quickly.

_The water._

And then it came back to her. They had crashed into the sea, and the jet was somehow still miraculously intact…or partially intact. There had to be a hole, crack, or some other broken seal in the aircraft because the water continued to rise.

And that knowledge snapped Wanda's senses back on full alert. She knew she had to move.

Beside her, Pietro was slumped over in his seat, and that set her heart racing even more than it already was. And though she couldn't see very well, she couldn't make out any movement from the cockpit either.

She had to do something. She had to focus.

"Pietro!" Wanda's voice shook almost in time with her fingers as she fumbled with her harness, and the water continued to rise. It was nearly to their knees now. And it was _so_ cold. Her feet were already going numb.

Finally, managing to get her harness unhooked, Wanda jumped out of her seat as best she could and started working on her brother's harness, while trying to stay as calm as she could in the hope that the calmness of her voice would coax her brother awake because the last time he was rendered unconscious, shouting had not helped.

"Pie—Pietro. Wake up. Come on please. PIETRO!"

So much for staying calm. Wanda begged her brother some more to wake up as she unhooked his harness just as the water reached the bottom of his seat.

"May!" Wanda shouted as she glanced back up at the cockpit hopefully, but it was so dark. She couldn't tell if May was unconscious in her seat or dead, but either way, she couldn't help her right now. She didn't even know if she could help her brother, and he was the priority.

"Wa—Wanda?" Pietro's voice quavered just as her own had, but she couldn't tell if it was in confusion, cold, fear, pain, or perhaps all of the above but the fact that he had woken up calmed her just a bit.

"I've got you, Pietro. I'm going to get us out of here." Said Wanda as she pulled her brother's arm over her shoulder and raised him to his feet as gently and quickly as she could.

The water was still rising. Standing, it was now at waist level. Wanda didn't look to see what that meant for May. She was barely keeping herself together as it was.

_God it's so cold._

Pietro was waking up more now. For a moment, she almost wished he wouldn't because even though she'd promised she would do it, she—she didn't know how she was going to get them out of there.

"Wanda, it's co-cold" Pietro sputtered out. Then looked around as if the pieces were just coming together. "We're sinking."

"No. NO. The jet is sinking. _We're_ going to get out of here."

"Wh—what about May?" Pietro asked, voice shaking with a mixture of cold and fear.

Her brother, ever the Good Samaritan, even in a crisis.

"I'll come back for her, or we'll get someone to help. Don't worry. We just have to focus on getting out of here first. The faster we get out, the faster she'll get help."

Fortunately, that seemed to placate her brother or maybe he was just too out of it to completely comprehend what was going on. Getting knocked out twice in a matter of days, could not be good for anyone, let alone her already injury prone and fragile little brother.

They reached the back of the jet and Wanda put one hand on it blindly searching for…what? She didn't really know. Just some way out.

Wanda tried to control her rising fear as she strained her mind for an idea of what to do. Surely, if she blasted open any part of the jet, water would just come barreling in and down on them. And that might at the very least knock her or Pietro or both unconscious again, putting them in a worse position then they were in now. She knew the same thing would happen if her brother tried to break the glass windshield at the front of the aircraft, if that were even possible for him to do with the force of water pushing against it from the other side, which she doubted. And having just water, rather than glass and water reign down on them seemed to be the lesser of two evils, so she didn't even suggest it.

But she had to do something. She couldn't wait any longer. It was getting harder to concentrate as the cold ocean water rose up to their chests.

She tried to call on her powers, and a red flicker of light shimmered around one hand as she held it above the water, illuminating her brother's unnaturally pale face, but the light flickered and died. Frustrated, she tried again only to end with the same result.

She wasn't going to be able to do it. She was too cold. Too powerless. Too afraid. They were going to die here. More importantly, her brother was going to die here, and it would be all her fault.

She tried once more, creating nothing more than light enough to illuminate their imminent death. The water was at the top of their shoulders now. Before the light flickered out once more, she saw her brother—still semi-conscious—raise his dark brown eyes to meet her own.

"S'alright, Wanda." Said Pietro, his voice surprisingly calm.

"No—no." said Wanda barely above whisper.

_This can't be happening._

She couldn't let it happen. Angry tears began to form in her eyes and she closed them tightly in one last effort to retain some semblance of control. She felt her brother's other arm wrap around her body and pull her into a hug, just as they both took a desperate breath of air before the water rose above their heads, consuming them in its cold, unforgiving grasp.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. They weren't supposed to die here. They were going to go back home. They were going to be a family again. She tried to ignore her shaking limbs and the beginning of an ache in her lungs.

It wasn't fair. She had to save Pietro. _He_ didn't deserve to die here. She had to escape. She had to get them out. She had to…take them home.

Maybe it was the eerie calm with which the water enveloped them or the feeling of her brother's arms around her, but as they hovered in that peculiar stretch of time between life and death, something in her snapped.

She refused to die like this. To let her brother die like this, in a universe that wasn't even their own. Refused to let this world end them, when her brother had already made it through so much.

She. Just. Refused.

Wanda's eyes snapped open underwater, glowing red and brighter than they ever had before. A moment later, red swirling energy exploded from within her, engulfing her and Pietro, but not before a large hand encircled her forearm, intending to pull her and her brother from the ocean's grasp, but instead, its owner was pulled along with them into the unknown.

* * *

**STEVE POV**

_Earlier…_

Once Erik had broken through the prison's hull, it hadn't been difficult to get past the guards. With two super-powered beings—one whom controls metal—and a super-soldier working together, incapacitating the armed soldiers had made for simple work. Steve felt bad about injuring his fellow men at arms, but it was unfortunately necessary. He had to free his friends. He owed them that much. Erik and Wanda didn't seem to broken up about it, but he could hardly blame them for that given their past.

Even though she'd volunteered, Wanda had effectively been a prisoner to those who had given her powers, and as for Erik…he'd seen the tattoo on his arm. Steve knew what that meant. He'd lived through that time too. Just not in the same way, or in the same world.

But all-in-all, the liberation mission was going as best as could be expected, better actually. Steve should've known their good fortune wouldn't last.

"Steve."

Sharon Carter's voice sounded in the communication device he had set in his ear. Steve knew he had asked too much of her to accompany him here, so he could sneak on the island prison without having to overtly announce his presence by landing the jet on it, but she had agreed to help and Steve couldn't pretend that he wasn't glad. The woman awoke feelings inside him that technically, he hadn't experienced for over half a century. Feelings that he both welcomed and wanted to bury deep inside himself at the same time.

"Steve?" Sharon asked again when he didn't respond as he was too caught up in his own thoughts. "What's your status?"

Shaking his head trying to clear it of lingering thoughts of his own feelings and the guilt he felt for probably ruining all of Sharon's career prospects if anyone found out she was helping him, Steve finally replied as he jogged with the rest of the group through the floating prison.

"We're on our way out. Almost to the roof."

Next to him Erik gave Steve a weird look that might have been the first change in emotion from the man's serious demeanor since he and Wanda had arrived on the vessel as a welcome surprise. Steve guessed Erik was probably confused as to why he was narrating their progress. As a man out of time himself, he could understand the confusion. It had certainly been a jarring experience for him when he'd woken up in 2012 and been bombarded by how much technology had advanced.

Steve pointed to the device in his ear to clue Erik in, which seemed to do the trick because he nodded and turned away.

"The other people that are with you…their jet went down. I think it might've been struck by lightning." Sharon's voice carried through the ear piece. She wasn't panicked, but she could hear the stress in her voice at not being able to do something for whoever was in that jet. "It didn't hit the prison, and I think it might have stayed intact when it hit the water, but I haven't seen anyone surface."

Years of training had Steve replying immediately. "Circle impact zone. See if you can get a visual on the pilot. We're just reaching the exit. I'll attempt a rescue as soon as we're out."

As Steve finished his reply, next to him Erik asked, "What is it?"

The man's voice was calm, unaware that the life of whoever had brought him and Wanda here was quite possibly in peril.

They rounded a final corner and ended up right below what would be their exit as Steve replied "Your jet. It just went down. I'm goin—" He didn't even finish speaking before the color had completely drained from Erik's face.

"Pietro. Wanda." Wanda's voice was barely above a whisper, but the panic in it, sent a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach. She couldn't mean…No. Were Erik's children in the jet that went down?

A moment later, Steve had his answer because Erik had recovered from his initial shock. The man stuck his arms out above his head and then in one swift motion as if he were pulling something toward him, he was soaring upward through their initial entry point into the structure. Steve quickly followed up the ladder before Wanda could also attempt to fly off, as she most likely wanted to do by the sound of her voice, but Steve was fairly certain she didn't even know how to swim, and they didn't need another person to rescue.

Steve reached the top of the ladder after what felt like an eternity, but what had really only been a matter of seconds. He had to help Erik rescue his kids. If something happened to Erik's children while he had been helping him, Steve would never forgive himself. And even regardless of that fact, Steve couldn't bear it if any children were hurt or God forbid….

Steve looked around, amidst the still powerful rain and wind, locating Erik at the edge of the roof of the structure. His arms were stretched out over the water, no doubt in an attempt to locate the sunken aircraft and bring it to the surface.

"Erik!" Steve shouted over the storm as he ran over to the man. Erik turned his head to look over at Steve as he approached, his face strained with effort and his eyes hauntingly unseeing, but Erik didn't say anything. He just turned away and took a diving leap into the water. His cape billowing behind him as he did. He supposed the man didn't care if they weighed him down. Erik would likely shed them if he needed to in order to bring his children back to the surface, and if not…it wouldn't matter. Steve was certain Erik had no intention of coming back up, if he didn't come back with his children.

Without a further thought, Steve dove off the building into the water after Erik. Behind him, he thought he heard Wanda screaming, and if Steve had looked back, he would have seen Clint with his arms around Wanda holding her back, while the other Sam and Scott emerged onto the roof of the structure just behind them.

Steve hit the water hard. The cold and dark a shock to his system, but he had jumped into the ocean before on different mission from a much greater height. His body could take it. His only fear was that Wanda and Pietro, and even Erik could not. Not for long anyway, assuming they had survived the impact.

The water muted the sound of the storm above but it did nothing to calm his worry for Erik's children and the pilot who had also gone down with the jet. Turning his body under the water, Steve saw a dim light ahead, illuminating Erik's figure and the shape of an aircraft rising toward him.

Wasting no time, Steve swam toward Erik, whose back was to him. A strong swimmer, he made it over to the man just as Erik, tore off the back of the jet. The broken piece of the aircraft spiraled away from them, missing Steve by less than an inch. Using his powers, Erik quickly moved forward reaching into the aircraft. Steve was close on his heels. Close enough to see what happened next.

The outline of two small figures—which had to belong to Wanda and Pietro—were clutched together just inside what remained of the jet. In front of Steve, Erik reached out to them, his hand desperately encircling Wanda's arm. At the same time, Steve grabbed the edge of the aircraft, intending to pull himself forward and assist Erik, but then…there was a flash of red. Bright, strong, and other worldly, it engulfed Erik and his children before hitting Steve like a hurricane force gale wind, threatening to throw him into the empty expanse of ocean behind him. If he hadn't been holding on to the jet, he would surely have been thrown far away from it.

But he was holding on, so he saw all three figures completely illuminated in a swirl of red energy, so very much like the power of the Wanda he had come to know….And then…just like that, they were gone.

**End of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to make this a two part series! Part II will be called We Will Remember, so be on the look out for that (though probably not for awhile...I'll be the first to admit that I'm not very good at updating regularly). By the way, the title of this series comes from the Jimmy Ruffin song of the same name. Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the reviews thus far! They are very much appreciated. (:


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